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THE 



NEW COMIC ANNUAL, 



FOR 1831, 




" You are merry, so am I ; 
II a ! ha ! then there's more sympathy.' 



Shakspi art. 



LONDON. 
HURST, CHANCE, AND CO. ; 

st. tail's church-yard. 

C I % 3 






' r v ^ ^ Cv ^ 



LONDON . 

BRADBURY AND EVANS, PRINTERS, 

FLEET STREET. 






XOT, 

TO THE LORD HIGH CHANCELLOR: 

He is too elevated a Subject : 

XOT, 

TO HIS GRACE OF CANTERBURY, 

For my subjects, altho' arch, are neither serious nor divine 

XOT, 

To the SENATOR, the SCHOLAR, or the SAGE ; 
I write not of politics — polemics — or philosophy : 



XOR, 

To POETS, or PROSODIANS; for they exceed my measure: 

BUT, 

To PROSERS and POETASTERS, 
Who "point a moral," or " adorn a tale ;" and, 

To PLAYERS and PUNSTERS, 

With whom, to " act a part" or "crack a joke," arc — 

NUTS. 

TO THE LOVERS OF GAIETY AND GLEE, 

From the high-born Peer, to the low-born Peasant 3 
and, especially 

to the " better half" of mex — 
THEIR MERRY WIVES; 

THIS 

tfixit Volume 0f jfaXstafTs annual 

is, 

WITHOUT PERMISSIOX, 

GRATUITOUSLY INSCRIBE]). 




" Le petit chien' du mendiant." The Beggar's Petition*. 

" You must endeavour to write in such a manner as to convert melancholy 
into mirth, increase good humour, entertain the ignorant, create the admira- 
tion of the learned, escape the contempt of gravity, and attract applause from 
persons of ingenuity and taste." 

Don Quixote. 



Your Humble Petitioner 
Sheweth, 

That deeply impressed with that first law of 

nature, " take care of No, I" he prays, that 

this his first Annual, may be well seconded in 



VI PREFACE. 

succeeding Numbers. In so novel a position before 
the public, your petitioner feels that he assumes 
one which he cannot long uphold, unless by your 
encouragement upheld ; neither, in thus raising 
himself in cur-ious mood to a New Title, wherein 
he stands alone, does he expect, however upright 
his appeal, to support that title long, unless by 
you supported in his waggish tale and doggrel 
verse. 

Taking, therefore, the above stand, if not with 
cap in hand, his mouth bespeaks the world's 
charity and the critic's mercy. 

Your petitioner further sheweth, that 
full of faith in the one, and hope in the other, to 
his latest day, even on his last legs, shall his 
great full tale appear in graceful lay unfolded. 



PREFACE. Vll 

Your petitioner humbly conceives, that he 
does not trust to a fragile reed, or rest upon a 
false staff, in thus ushering into the world his 
first Number by the merry title of — 

FALSTAPPS ANNUAL; 

the joyous harbinger of " genial laughs," or glad 
contributor of social mirth ; ripe for all seasons — 
the winter's hearth or summer's shade. But, 
should his bantling fade and fall with the 
autumnal leaf, still may future evergreens be 
his never-fading laurels ; his broad merry face 
laughing sour crabs (who seek the fruit and 
look beyond the bark) into sweet countenance— 
of his Annual, as worthier of the Wreath of 
Comus, than the Wrath of Critics. 



VII 1 



PREFACE. 



If, however, your petitioner shall appear to 
have set out with a " frail bark/' he must, 
nevertheless, trust to his present canvass, and 
hope for a future better sail ! for, remember, my 
brother cynics, it is 




"ONLY ONCE A YEAR!' 



CONTENTS. 



Falstaff's Festival, or the power of Mirth 

The Origin of the Bustle 

Chipping Norton, or the Modern Pygmalion 

A General Election 

Lawyer Sharp . 

TheWoyager .... 

Y — East Dumplings in a South Wester — a true story 

Phrenology 

Modern Fashionable Dancing 

The Foundation of Erazen Nose College 

Suitor Johnny . . . . 

To a Lady celebrated for her skill in Painting . 

The Village Spectre 3 a fearful story 

Egypt's Lament 

My Grenadier .' 



Page 

1 
11 
15 
19 
22 
27 
30 
34 
38 
40 
45 
47 
48 
53 
57 



CONTENTS. 



Composing and De-composing 

Friend of my Soul {last edition) 

On Bathing 

Puns on Punning, or Hints to a Punster 

Soliloquy. By a Waterman . 

An Essay on a Boot 

A Great Sinner 

The Blue Stocking Belle 

Sonnet on a Lap Dog. By a Lady . 

A Tale of the Road 

The character of the Old English Yeoman 

Reasons for Drinking 

Washing a Black Man White 

Giving up the Ghost . . 

Hypochondriasis 

The Old Maid's complaint 

The Pot Boy — a rough sketch 

Anagrams, or words revolutionized 

Definite and Indefinite Articles 

The Lamentation of Old London Bridge 

Tragic Reminiscences 



CONTENTS. 



XI 



War's Alarms. An authenticated tale 

The Suttee 

To a Chamber Candlestick. A fragment 

On Dog Days 

Sketches of Life in Philadelphia 

A Morning Call 

The Love Correspondent 

The Rivals 

The Exquisite 

The Mercury 

The Justice Room 

The Hibernian . 

Old Acquaintances 

The Dancers 

Sally Watts. A pensive ditty 

Some account of the Side Family 

The Contrast 

A Letter from a Dustman to the Editor 

The Royal Exchange 

Bartholomew Fair 

Trial, and Sentence of Sir John Falstaff 



Page 
131 

136 

141 

143 

147 

ib. 
151 
152 
153 
155 
156 
158 
159 
160 

162 
166 
1/2 

174 

178 
18/ 
189 



LIST OF PLATES. 



Page. 
Crabs . . vn 

" Two of a Trade never agree " 3 

Cordial Friends . . 9 

See what a pretty figure he cuts ! 15 
A Sharp Contest for a Rotten Seat 19 
A Solicitor . 22 

A Sharp and a Flat 24 

A Retainer . 26 

"Arn't you well Sir ?" — ° Not wery" 27 
Phrenology . . .34 

Cur-tailing . 40 

Spare Rib .45 

Harem Scare 'm . 49 

Law, Physic, and Divinity . 50 



Designer. Engraver. 
W.Brown T. Mosses. 



J. Biggs. 

T. Mosses. 

R. West. 

T. Mosses. 



J. N. Chapman. 
T. Mosses. 



LIST OF PLATES. 



Seventy-four and a Tender 

A Match — too much Brimstone 

The Composer 

One Scraper at a door enough . 

The Schoolmaster Abroad 

A Cold Bath 

A Hot Bath 

"Boots" 

Committing Forgery 

Forlorn Hope 

Travellers see strange things . 

Round of Beef 

One of the Society of Friends- 
met together 

Giving up the Ghost 

Brotherly Recognition 

" Come tip" — M veil stop a bit'' 

The National Guard 

Poaching on forbidden Preserves 

Breaking down the Bridge of 
an Enemy 



Page. 


Designer. 


Engraver. 


57 


W. Browv. 


T. Mosses. 


59 


- 


- 


61 


- 


- 


63 


- 


- 


65 


- 


R. West. 


66 


— J 


X. Chapman 


67 


_ 


_ 



71 
81 
83 
93 

97 

103 
109 
112 
113 
119 



T. Mossed 
J. X. Chapman. 
T. Mosses. 



— J. X. Chapman - . 

— R.West. 

— T. Mossed 

— J. N. Chapman. 

— T. Mosses. 

— J. X. Chapman. 



LIST OF PLATES. 

Page. Designer. 



A General Panic, and Run upon 

the Banks . 
The Drama . 
A Detachment 
The Black Arts 
Hydrophobia 
The Odd Shelter 
Life in Philadelphia . 147 

A Greenwich Pensioner 
Cribbage— One for his Nob 
A Storm— " Breakers a-head ! 
The Ball 
The Hop 

Drawing from the Life 
Geological Researches . 
" Wake ! Dearest, Wake !" 
A Fair Day 



125 
127 
131 
136 
143 
146 
to l6l 

162 

167 
169 
172 
173 

181 
183 
185 

187 



W. Brown. 



Engraver. 

R. West. 
T. Mosses. 

G. W. Bonner. 
T. Mosses. 

( Various. ) 
T. Mosses. 



T. Mosses. 
J. N. Chapman. 

T. Mosses. 
J. N. Chapman. 



HEAD AND TAIL PIECES, &c. 



Page. 
Sir John Falstaff . . Title 
Petit Chien . v 

" Only Once a- Year " . . viii 
Falstaff's Arms . . 10 

Venus and Cupid . . 14 

Black Eyed Susan . .18 

Chairing the Member . . 21 

A Solicitor . . .26 

Squally . . 29 

Destructiveness — The Barrel Organ 37 
Hot-pressed . 39 

An Orator of Bray's Nose . 44 

" Here we meet too soon to part " 46 
The Bottle Imp ! 52 

A Cure for Sleight of Hand . 6s 
Patience on a Puncheon . 70 

A Scull-ing Match . . 73 

Expansion of the Under- standing 7^ 
A Dumb Waiter . . 83 



Designer. 
W. Brown. 



Engraver. 
T. Mosses. 



R. West. 
T. Mosses. 



J. Biggs. 



R. WEbT. 



HEAD AND TAIL PIECES, &C. 



A British Charge de Fare 

A Tail of the Olden Time 

Friends dropping in, &c. 

Being Whitewashed 

Mrs. Kitely . 

A Happy Couple at the Altar 

Decapitation 

A Foul Drawer 

A Suspension Bridge 

A Backbiter 

A Dis-charger 

The Black Dwarf 

Bare Polls 

An Unconnected Tale 

A Man of War 

The Dustman 

Dog and Calf 

The Tail Piece 



90 
95 
99 
102 
107 
111 
113 
120 
126 
130 
135 
140 
142 
161 
165 
1/4 

177 

192 



Designer 
W. Brown 



Engraver. 

J. N. Chapman. 

T. Mosses. 

R. West. 

T. Mosses. 



R. West. 
T. Mosses. 

R. West. 

T. Mosses. 

J. N. Chat. man. 



T. Mosses. 
T. Mosses. 



THE 

#£eto Comic Annual 



FALSTAFFS FESTIVAL ; 



OR, THE POWER OF MIRTH. 



AN ODE. IN HONOR OF COMI s. 



'Twas at the Festival by Hood begun, 
That Falstaff with his Fun, 
Full oft in playful state, 
A mirthful hero, sate 

With humour all his own. 
His cordial friends were plac'd around, 
Their lips with plaudits and his praise resound ; 
(So should desert in Wit be crown'd !) 

B 



Z FALSTAFF S FESTIVAL. 

Hood, lively Comic, by his side, 

John with ecstatic joy espied, 

In prime of fun, and frolic's pride. 

Happy, happy, happy pair ! 

None but the gay, 

None but the gay, 

None but the gay deserve their care. 

CHORUS. 

" Happy, happy, happy pair ! 
None but the gay, 
None but the gay, 
None but the gay deserve their care." 



Sir Falstaff plac'd on high 
Amid the jolly crew; 
Loud peals of merriment he drew, — 
The joyous sounds ascend the sky, 
And all with mirth imbue. 

That mirth began from John, 

They felt he was a Comic one, 

(Such is the pow'r of motley fun). 

A Comic Annual now became the Knight ; 

Sublime on nothing could he write ; 



FALSTAFF S FESTIVAL. <3 

When to St. Paul's Church-yard he stole, 
And there pour'd out his comic soul ; 
Then from his waistcoat pocket took, 
A full-length image of himself, the Falstaff of this 
Book. 
Hurst, Chance & Co. approve his lofty air ; 
A Falstaff's Annual ! they shout, is here ; 
A Falstaff's Annual ! again re-echoes there, 
Delighted quite, 
The merry Knight, 
In laughing mood 
Assumes the Hood, 
And laughs with all his might. 



" Delighted quite, 

The merry Knight, 

In laughing mood 

Assumes the Hood, 

And laughs with all his might." 

in. 

Quick, returned Sir John, with his u Announcement " — he, 

That " two men -of a trade can ne'er agree " 

b2 



4 FALSTAFF S FESTIVAL. 

The adage proved, in sportive fun, 
In the case of Lackington 
And co-book-seller, who. 
Each on his first debut, 
Did o'er his shop-front write, bold as the sun, 
" Cheapest in the world" the one — 
The other, " Cheapest in this street ! " 
In his Neighbours mode of vending 
Lies the " front " of his " offending, " 

Soft the lecture, 

Sweet as nectar ; 
Sweet as kiss when lovers meet. 

CHORUS. 

" In his Neighbour's mode of vending, 
Lies the "front" of his " offending," 

Soft the lecture, 

Sweet as nectar ; 
Sweet as kiss when lovers meet." 

IV. 

Something there was of comic vein, 
In these " Announcements" of the twain, 
Which nullified (or mollified) the adage old, and an 
Example set of brother-Aooef, 
Of humour great, and spirit good, 



FALSTAFF'S FESTIVAL. I 

Fit for all trades. Again, 'tis said, 
"Ev'ry man to his own trade." 
Sir John employs the muse, 
His notion to infuse : 

The simplest thing, like simplest thought, 
By force numerical 
1. 2.-3. 4.-5. 6.-7. 
Seven, eight, or more withal, 
Unto perfection brought 
May be ; — ergo, a pin or pun, 
Although mechanical the one, 
The other, of a mental make, 
Equal hands and minds may take. 
v If ten pair, to a pin's construction, shall 
Be used to give it point and head, 
What handicraft un rival-led, 
However skilful, could alone 
Give force unto a Pun. 

Revolving in his altered mind 

This simile ; — " a sorry one ! " ■ 

John cries. The manus and the mens, a blind, 

Though close, comparison ! 



FALSTAFF S FESTIVAL. 



The merry Falstaff laughed to see 
A Pin and Pun in close degree ; 
Each with a kindred sound and sense, 
For Point alone is their pretence. 
Strongly, in Johnsonian measure, 
Pun appears a costly treasure. 
Money is our toil and trouble, 
Pun is but an empty bubble ; 

Never ending, still beginning, 
Punning still, and still annoying ; 

If a laugh be worth thy winning, 
O think a Pun is worth employing ! 

But he, who's guilty of that trick, 

Says Johnson, will a " Pocket pick!" 
The lexicographer, if living, would 
Compare us to an old thief, — Robin-Hood. 
Falstaff, unable to restrain his zeal, 

Gaz'd on his plan ; 

His inward man 

First sigh'd, then heav'd, heav'd and sigh'd, 

Sigh'd and heav'd, from head to heel : 



FALSTAFF S FESTIVAL. 

At length, of his Announcement vain and proud, 
Its second page read sonorously loud. 

CHORUS. 

" Falstaff, unable to restrain his zeal 

Gaz'd on his plan ; 

His inward man 

First sigh'd, then heav'd, sigh'd and heav'd, 

Sigh'd and heav'd, from head to heel : 
At length, of his Announcement vain and proud, 
Its second page read sonorously loud." 

VI. 

Now here, at least, " too many Cooks 

Spoil not the broth ; " no more than many books 

Pall the taste. Ho\\ few soups savour, 

To palates fresh, of the same sort of flavour. 

Sir John's is ever new ; 

His taste as oft varies 

As Colman's vagaries, 

Or the palette's varied hue. 
Behold, behold, Sir Falstaff cries, 

Other Comics arise ! 

For our brother last year, 

Hood, himself, did appear 



8 falstaff's festival. 

Siam's Elephant, (thd* small his size) 
Without a rival one, 
" Clear stage and favour none." 
Like the Siam Youths, that by nature are twain, 
Let us one remain ; 
United in our plan, 
Upon an " open field" 
Mutual " fair play" yield ; 
He to the Tilt of his fair enterprize, 

To our game toe, of glorious Chance, 
Our equal fame and fortune to advance. 

Two faces disdains the Old Comic to wear 
'Neath one Hood — so the New; as in Knighthood, 
both are 

In one golden fight 
Of pun and fun ; the Knight 
Seeks not from others their own /£ve££-hood to bar. 



chorus. 

" Two faces disdains the Old Comic to wear 
'Neath one Hood — so the New; as in Knighthood, 
both are 




CORDIAL FRIFXDS. 



FALSTAFF S FESTIVAL. 



In one golden fight 
Of pun and fun ; the Knight 
Seeks not from others their own liveli-liood to bar." 



VII. 

'Twas thus at once, 
The rnerry Falstaff did announce 
This Annual to his friends, 
His " Cordial Friends" ; and blessing blends 
With bumper glass, 
To ev'ry honest lad, and each true-hearted lass. 
So Hodges with his cordials came 
To animate the mortal frame ; 
The sweet companions o'er their sacred store 
Narrow'd its former larger bounds ; 
But added to their scandal sounds, 
By Hodges' spirit mov'd, and " only one glass more. 1 ' 
Let the Old Comic keep the " field," 
The New join in the u play" ; 
To " Hodges' best ! " let neither yield, 
But Knight-Hood rule the day. 



10 



FALSTAFF S FESTIVAL. 



GRAND CHORUS. 

" So Hodges with his cordials came 

To animate the mortal frame ; 
The sweet companions o'er their sacred store 

Narrow' d its former larger bonnds ; 

But added to their scandal sounds, 
By Hodges' spirit mov'd, and " only one glass more." 

Let the Old Comic keep the " field," 

The New join in the " play" ; 

To " Hodges* best /" let neither yield, 

But Knight-Hood rule the day." 




11 



THE ORIGIN OF THE BUSTLE. 



Some years ago — perhaps, fifteen or twenty, 
John Bull (who loves on novelty to feast, 

God knows, our neighbours always give us plenty) 
Received an Importation from the East. 

T'admire the fair, John thought it was his duty, 
And quickly fell to dreaming of love-knots, 

His visitor was (tho' not fair) a beauty, 
The lovely Venus of the Hottentots. 

But here my tale requires an explanation, 
Which I will give as graceful as I can ; 

Blush not, ye fair ones of this blushing nation. 
Or if ye will, why, blush behind a fan. 



12 THE ORIGIN OF THE BUSTLE. 

The line of beauty in this lovely dame, 
In admiration whereof John subscribed, 

Is rather difficult for me to name, 

And, therefore, by your leave must be described. 

Reader — thou hast perchance heard some one tell, 

This beauty had a vast rotundity : 
'Twas in that seat where Honour's said to dwell, 

Like learning — sometimes in profundity. 

Oh! who can tell what countless myriads ran 
To gaze upon this wonder of the East : 

The Prince — the Peer — the Poet — Clergyman 
And Courtier rush'd, their eager eyes to feast. 

Eclipsing all the beauties of the day, 

This sooty rival of fair womankind, 
Whene'er she wished her beauty to display, 

Presented to the view — her vast behind ! 

This could not last ; our lovely British fair, 
Beheld with jealous eyes their mighty rival ; 

With her, by nature, they could not compare, 
The largest they could shew, was but a trifle. 



THE ORIGIN OF THE BUSTLE. 13 

It was agreed, nem. con., that such a sight 
In Britain's Isle had ne'er been seen before, 

The ladies all were in a piteous plight, 

Their slender shapes they voted quite a bore. 

'Tis said with truth that when Dame Nature fails, 
We have recourse to her half-sister — Art ; 

And oftentimes her wondrous skill avails, 
To lull the sorrows of an aching heart. 

A convocation of the fair was called, 

To take their case into consideration, 
Discuss the cause by which they were enthralled, 

And to obtain redress for all the nation. 

When after much debating, pro. and con., 

A celebrated milliner from Paris, 
Cried out " Mafoi ; a plan I've hit upon, 

Which cle resemblance of our rival carries." 

Who can describe the scene of uproar there, 

Ecstatic joy beyond all comprehension ; 
Caps, hats, and bonnets flew up in the air, 

When Madame B. described her sly invention. 



14 



THE ORIGIN OF THE BUSTLE. 



Oh ! not one minute longer would they stay, 
But all was hurry, Bustle, and perplexity ; 

With buckram, whalebone, wool, and starch that day, 
Each lady made herself a vast convexity. 

No longer needed they, in secret, plot, 

The dingy queen of Hearts they now could jostle, 
The sable Venus was forthwith forgot, 

And their Appendage henceforth call'd a Bustle ! 




Venus and Cupid. 




W--^liP^fc^:. I 



SEE WHAT A PRETTY FIGURE HE CUTS ! 



15 



CHIPPING-NORTON; 

OR, 
THE MODERN PYGMALION. 



Jack Norton was a mason bred. 
And might have gained a fortune, 

But was by chipping heads misled, 
And nick-named — Ch ipp /^-Norton . 

Tis even said, that when a boy, 
(How fame our actions garbles), 

He scorned each other childish toy, 
And loved to play with — marbles. 

No longer pavements he laid down, 
Sinks made him melancholy ; 

He meant in London's learned town, 
To pave his way— with folly. 



16 CHIPPING-jNORTON. 

Canova's works before his eyes, 
He kick'd his beer-ca?i over ; 

Resolved like him in fame to rise 
By skill, or by manoeuvre. 

To town he came to cut his way, 
By cutting teeth and ears ; 

And lips with not a word to say, 
And eyes that shed no tears. 

His hand upon a head he tried, 
A block of marble spoiling ; 

A block-head made, and shouting, cried, 
" Success rewards my toiling." 

Become more practised in the art, 
He'll yield the palm to no man ; 

At first he chiselled but a part, 
But now has carved a woman. 

Pygmalion like, he fell in love 

With his own statuary ; 
But tried in vain her breast to move, 

She was a statue — wary. 



CHIPPIXG-NORTON. 17 

And after weeks of weeping, he 

His sorrows thus exprest — 
" How cold and hard the heart must be, 

Enshrined in such a breast ! 

" With classic skill that ear I turned, 

But now that I would woo thee, 
My only fond request is spurned, 

You turn a deaf ear to me. 

" The Icicle on Dian's throne, 

By summer suns will vary, 
Unlike to thee, thou lifeless one, 

Cold, petrifying fairy ! 

"In lovely woman are combined, 

Truth, honour, grace and duty, 
Devoid of soul — of eye — and mind, 

Say, what are youth and beauty ? 

" Oh! would that bosom heave one sigh, 

Twould all my cares repay ; 
But since that blessing you deny, 

I'll heave my sighs away, 
c 



18 



CHIPPING-NORTON. 



" Oh ! cold as ice, — thou freezing shrine, 

With all the artist's vigour, 
Without dear woman's eye divine, 

He cuts a sorry figure." 




BLACK EY D SUSAN. 




A SMART CONTEST FOR A ROTTEN SEAT. 



19 



A GENERAL ELECTION 

Is a sort of civil or intestine war in miniature ; parties 
and spirits run high, while cash runs low. It is a 
time when John Bull's constitution unfolds itself; his 
constitutional love of homely cheer is gratified, and, 
best of all, not at his own expence. 

Instead of the genuine spirit of elections, independent 
voters for the most part run about from one candidate 
to another, — votaries to spirits of their own selection. 
Polls are opened and closed with as much tang froid, 
and as little bloodshed, as though the heads of corporate 
bodies had gone the round of the Hospital at Guy's ; 
and the independent Electors hit off their parts to 
admiration. 

A ribbon, be it red, green, or blue, will, in a sharp 
contest, lead to more ruby noses and particolored hides, 
than a brisk Irish row. An.election may well match with 
c2 



20 A GENERAL ELECTION. 

a hospital, for corruption ; many a sprig of nobility is 
forced virtually to turn pawnbroker, and circulate the 
golden ball to avoid being black-balled ; while the " third 
man," as he is termed, not unfrequently, like the little 
tailor in the old song, cabbages the broad cloth of his 
more honest than fortunate rivals. 

Were the true spirit, or rather substance, of John Bull 
to be represented in St. Stephen's, that temple of pure 
and philanthropic wisdom would be found too small to 
contain the solid representation of the people, although 
confined to a small portion only of each constituent, so 
filled out are electors at this season of food and feasting. 
No wonder, therefore, that representatives are required, 
when in Parliament, to vote for a system of reduction, 
or rather a reduction of the system ! 

It has been suggested to future candidates for St. 
Stephen's, to prepare stuffed puppets, selected from the 
dandies of St. James's, to perform the office of bowers and 
scrapers, and also as better fitted to stand against the 
genial showers so copiously poured of late by choice 
electors on their chosen men ; for it is one of the high 
privileges of a free Briton, to load with abuse the man 
upon whose bounty he has just before fed and feasted. 
A contested election too often produces virtually to some 



A GENERAL ELECTION. 



21 



candidates in part, and to others in to-to, the pain and 
penalty of gout, they having to undergo the operation of 
"Chairing the Member;" while with the unfortunate 
cheer-less candidate, it operates like a Tract of the 
Society for the diffusion of " Useful Knowledge." 




Chairing the Member, 



22 



LAWYER SHARP. 



How many feel the Law's delay, 

And curse the fatal hour, 
That gave them up to law a prey, 

Their substance to devour. 

How many fated clients pray 
They could delay the law ; 

But its proceedings who can stay* 
Or from its toils withdraw ? 

Fat fees the Lawyers hope to net, 
From those their wiles ensnare, 

Nor they the toils of Law regret, 
While charge repays their care. 

They with their special-pleading tact, 
Will lengthen out a brief ; 

It costs no labour to abstract, 
For costs are their relief. 




A SOLICITOR. 



LAWYER SHARP. 23 

Well suited are the terms of Law, 

To sue in Law or Love ! 
In each to rectify a flaw, 

We move the Courts above. 

If Chloe an " appearance enter," 

Her heart by Damon " sued," 
Should he no " Declaration" venture, 

In vain that heart is woo'd. 

But if " put in," and Chloe's heart 

To answer it, shall pause ; 
Fond Damon, with love's tricky art, 

Gets " Judgment" in the cause. 

Then Chloe counsels Lawyer Sharp, 

(Whose pay is meal or malt,) 
If wilily he could not warp 

This " Judgment by default." 

She swears that Damon thus " by force 

Of arms" her person took, 
And prays an order to disperse 

Said Judgment from the book. 



24 LAWYER SHARP. 

An " armed force" is in her view, 

Unnatural coercion ; 
In Law, or Love, it seemed undue 

" Attachment" of the person. 

Sharp-set was Damon by this course 
Of Law, like one astounded ; 

Soon, (many a six-and-eight-pence worse,) 
His person finds impounded. 

Sharp was no shark, nor yet a flat, 
But others he made sharper ; 

The flats, he would press flatter — that 
Was nat'ral, in law's warfare. 

Tis said the laws will take their course, 
Until they make you fee sick, 

And feed upon the bowels worse 
Than e'en a course of physic. 

Thus, Lawyer Sharp look'd to his fees, 
In hopes to save his gammon, 

Nor had recourse to " common pleas," 
Or "common law" with Damon. 




A SHARP AND A FLAT 



LAWYER SHARP. 25 

Old Sharp did not a " bill run up" 

But flat upon the table 
Spread out his fare (young Damon's cup 

Of gall) " Pay what you're able," 

Says he, to Damon, " compromise" — 

Come promise all you can ; 
" Corn-pound" — for if now penny-wise, 

You'll be pound-foolish, man. 

Poor Damon, into either pocket 

Now slid his timid paw, 
With eyes protruding from each socket, 

To see this bill for Law. 

For he was used to bill and coo 

In Cupid's court of Love ; 
But Damon was unused to woo, (woe) 

In the Law-courts above. 

Sharp saw the elevated brow 

Of Damon, with surprise, 
And guessed his pocket being low , 

Might cause that brow to rise. 



26 LAWYER SHARP. 

With act alert, and art expert, 
Out Damon turn'd his pockets ; 

With motion quick, did Sharp invert 
His eye-balls in their sockets. 

And loud exclaim'd, " fee ! — loss of fee ! " 

Shall Damon me outwit ? — 
Oh ! guide me, blest Phi-lo-so-phy, 

" The biter shall be bit !" 

So Sharp at once to fix his claim, 

And client run aground, 
To brief determination came, — 

" Reduced both, to a pound ! " 




A SOLICITOR, 




A RETAINER. 




" ajis't you well, sir?" — "not 



WERV. 



27 



THE WOYAGER. 



" Vell, arter all, there is nothing like a sea woyage. I 
alvays says to my vife, vomen are not fit for sea, because 
Thy — they are so wery nerwous. Vhat an inwention is 
steam ; ve are no sooner out of sight of Vappin than ve 
comes in sight of Voolich. An't it astonishin ! " said a 
simple untravelled east-ender to the commander of a 
Thames steamer bound for Ramsgate. " It's a wery dan- 
gerous woyage to the Isle of Thanet all along that 'ere 
coast ; I'm not frightened, but if there be any danger, 
vould you be kind enough to let me know." " Oh there 
is no danger but a great deal of fear" answered the bluff 
Captain. " Vell, that's wery terrific ; now how deep is it 
here ? " asked the curious one. The Captain thinking to 
amuse himself with the cockney, answered " ten fathom 
and a half and three quarters." " La ! vhat a depth, 
and how many miles are ve from London ? " " Thirteen 



28 THE WOYAGER. 

and a half." " Oh ! how wery particler ; vhat is the 
vheel for ? " "To steer by." " Then I suppose ve goes 
round and round in the vater. Veil, I von't go down 
stairs, for a sort of an all-owerishness comes ower me vhen 
I do, and vhile I stays on deck I alvays gits a happitite. 
But if that 'ere vheel should bring about a vhirlvind, 
then vhere should ve be ?" " At the bottom, to be sure," 
answered the Captain, who finding he was doomed to 
the horrors of the Inquisition, had recourse to a ruse to 
get rid of the offender, and began to prepare himself for 
his next question. Just off the North Foreland the cit 
was making another sally with some other silly remark, 
but with rather a sickly cast of countenance. — " Ar'n't 
you well, Sir ? " said the Captain. " Not wery," was the 
reply. " Well, I don't like to alarm you, but as you 
wished to be apprised of any danger, don't you perceive 
the chimney leans a little, and don't you hear a sort of 
cracking noise in the boilers ? " " Veil, Sir ? " replied 
he, terrified. u Then you go down below immediately, 
be silent as you value the safety of the vessel, any 
noise will interfere with my commands ; in the mean 
time there is some pease soup and a mutton chop, and 
with that you can amuse yourself until we are out of 
danger." 



THE WOYAGER. 29 

The frightened gentleman now descended : on the very 
first glimpse of the above mentioned viands, he pros- 
trated himself upon the cabin floor, a prey to the cre- 
dulity of his disposition, and a victim to that superlative 
of all horrors, sea-indisposition; the commander of the 
vessel was benefitted by the change, and the poor cit 
alarmed by the idea of its becoming 




30 



Y— EAST DUMPLINGS IN A SOUTH-WESTER. 

A TRUE STORY. 



" An't plase your Honor," Barney said, 
And twitched his red cap from his head, 
" My messmates wish to have a treat 
Of some yeast dumplings with their meat, 
And beg you'll let the steward pay 
For dough instead of flour to day." 
The Captain said, " I can't object 
To your request, and recollect, 
To let me have one for my dinner." 
Quoth Barney, " Sure as I'm a sinner, 
Your honor'll have the very best 
Of dumplings that was ever drest." 
The Captain smiled, the cook departed, 
And to his messmates joy imparted. 



y — EA st DUMPLINGS IN A SOUTH-WESTER. 31 

The dough procured — he set to work, 

As cheerfully as does a Turk 

Around some neck arrange the bowstring, 

And fancy he but ties a shoe-string. 

He weighed out for each man a pound, 

And rolled them up, small, neat, and round, 

The copper ready — water hot — 

He sent the dumplings all to pot ; 

A roaring fire with little trouble, 

Soon made the water boil and bubble, 

Like Shakspeare's cauldron in Macbeth, 

When witches danced a Dance of Death. 

Exulting now old Barney stands, 

Watches the steam — and rubs his hands ; 

And all things going on quite right, 

Took out his well burnt pipe to light : 

Then went to take a whiff or two 

On deck, as all good sailors do ; 

But scarcely had he blown a cloud, 

Before he heard a clamour loud ; 

A dozen tongues cried, " Barney ! ". " Quick ! " 

" The Devil ! " " Dumplings ! " and " Old Nick ! " 

Amazed — confused — he rushed below 

To learn what had befall'n, — when lo ! 



32 Y EAST DUMPLINGS IN A SOUTH-WESTER. 

Slap — reeking hot, ere he could speak 

A dumpling hit him on the cheek ; 

And looking round, North, South, and West, 

Lay his y-east darlings half undrest, 

Disdainful of a vapour bath. 

Barney enraged, yet quelled his wrath, 

And snatching up a hugeous fork, 

Instanter set himself to work, 

His dainty dumplings to replace, 

To hide his shame and 'scape disgrace ; 

But quickly gathered from the ground, 

Amazed the copper full he found. 

a Od blood an' ouns! why how is this?" 

I only filled the pot, I wis, 

And twice as many now appear: 

Some must have brought forth young, 'tis clear." 

Ascribing to multiplication 

Th' effects of simple fermentation. 

To end my tale — tho' not quite spoiled. 

They were, in due time, all quite boiled. 

Quick from the lot, the anxious cook 

The finest, plumpest dumpling took, 

And to the after cabin brought it, — 

Good Lord ! a giant you'd have thought it, 



Y — EAST DUMPLINGS IN A SOUTH WESTER. 33 

The cover raised, the Captain eyed 

The monstrous smoking mass, and cried, 

" Why, Barney, what the Devil's this ? 

I really think you've made a miss ! 

You surely can't a dumpling call it ! " 

Poor Barney cried, " Bad luck hefal it ! 

I made my dumplings round and small, 

And in the copper put them all : 

But, Lord \ your Honor, such a rig, — 

They all grew so confounded big, 

And quarrelled so within the pot, 

And got at last so 'nation hot, 

That out they all bounced, one by one ; 

My messmates never saw such fun ! 

All I could do to keep them quiet, 

And stop the mutiny and riot, 

Was, to let those who played the fool, 

By jumping out, lay still to cool; 

And, when I had thus cooled their courage, 

I finished them without demurrage." 




34 



PHRENOLOGY. 



Of all Modern Sciences, few have created greater 
disputation than that of Phrenology, or, as understood 
by schoolboys, the science of bumping. It appears, 
like the March of Intellect, to have turned the heads 
of the wise and the weak, the serious and the profound ; 
in fact, in this free knowledge age, it could not have 
been better named. 

A worthy disciple of Gall and Spurzheim, having 
advertized in the Dublin Morning Register for a serving 
man, seated himself in his study to await the arrival 
of the numerous applicants for bed and board, usually 
attendant on such a proceeding. 

The first introduction was a true specimen of the 
Irish peasantry (or pleasantry), dressed, however, " at 
all points," for the occasion ; for it is no uncommon thing 
to see a child of the Emerald Isle trudging along with 
the simple clothing of a ragged coat, and a pair of 
breeches ; a thumping shilela, however, completing the 




PIIRLNOLOfJY. 



PHRENOLOGY. 35 

equipment. Although it was evident that Larry OTlinn, 
the offspring of nature now introduced, had never 
passed through the hands of a Drill Serjeant, he never- 
theless formed one of that formidable body of men, the 
" Connaught Rangers," and had figur'd away at many 
a " Munster Festival." The first question put to him, 
after having ascertained his name, was, " Come, let 
me examine your head, and see if you have the organ 
of order." " Sure, my head's clane enough any day 
in the year, an' as for order, only try me, an' if I don't 
do all your honour orders, an' a grate dale more, niver 
believe I'm an Irishman." " I don't doubt you, Larry, 
and I find you have the organ of talkativeness fully 
developed." " Sure your honour wouldn't have me 
hould my tongue, for by the pow'rs it would bite my 
fingers, — what wages will I git, your honour?" "Ah! 
the organs of mquisitiveness, and acquisitiveness ; pray 
what was your father, Larry?" "My father, your 
honour, bad luck to him, I niver had none! he died 
before I . could eat butter milk; by St. Patrick, it 
wad have been a beautiful thing for myself if he 
had lived till now, for he got up in the world mightily, 
before he died." " Indeed ! how so? " " Fait, he couldn't 
tie his last cravat himself, an' was obliged to have 
d 2 



36 PHRENOLOGY. 

a helper !" " I don't exactly understand you." " Oh, your 
honour will make me tell you then ; why my father was 
a dear boy for a bit of a joke, an' sure I 'm his own child 
that way any how, an' a beautiful hand at handling a 
shilela. So one night he was at the fair at Ballynadoody, 
with the O'Reilly's an' the O'Tooles, an' the Mac Ochton's, 
and they drank lots o' the cratur, an' were all very merry ; 
and Barney OToole, the slanderer, tould my father — 
black was his nose ; now my father's nose was as red as 
a carrot, and as round as a turnip ; an' he gave Barney 
such a backbiting blow on the back of his head, that the 
O'Toole's took it up, an' a hundred shilela's were uplifted 
an' down again, before you could cry Paddy Whack ; an' 
when they shook hands again, bad luck to it! Barney 
lay as dead as his shilela, and poor Phelim O'Flinn, my 
father that used to be, was tried for murth'ring him ; so 
your honour may guess how he was elevated, but a man 
don't like to own his misfortunes, when he belongs to a 
rispictable family." " Well, well, Larry, I see you possess 
the organ of secretiveness in one sense ; I hope in the other 
sense you will keep your fingers from stealing." " Sure, 
Minny O'Rourke has a heart of steel, an' has been stealing 
away my heart any time these three years, so your honour 
may think I've had enough of stealing already." " Again, 
amativeness, very evident." " Well, Larry, I perceive most 



PHRENOLOGY. 



37 



of the organs you possess exemplify the tale you have 
told, but — " " Beggin' your honour's pardon, I niver set 
my eyes upon more than one organ, in all my life, an' 
that was at the fair at Ballyraggit, and they turned a handle 
like a young grinstin, an' — " " You mistake me, you are 
speaking of a barrel organ, I was only going to observe, 
that you have the organs of combativeness and destruc- 
tiveness very fully developed, and I hope you will endea- 
vour to keep out of mischief; on those conditions I engage 
you." " Pow'rs of heaven defend your honour!" ex- 
claimed Larry, capering on the floor, " an' grant that you 
may live for ever, an' a day over, and that my own self 
may live to see it, and wish you joy when you die !" 




DESTRUCTIVEXESS " — THE EARREL ORGA.V. 



38 



MODERN FASHIONABLE DANCING. 



Ye votaries of the light fantastic toe, 

Whose attitudes are sometimes too fantastic. 
Take heed you don't to " bonnie Scotland " go, 

For there you'll meet a curse ecclesiastic. 
The sturdy Cameronians hate a dance, 

And hold that e'en to join a reel is sinful ; 
Yet are they oft caught reeling, when, perchance, 

Of mountain dew they chance to get a skinful. 
All ye who wear short petticoats and stays, 
In the Haymarket stay and dance the hays. 

Ye modish followers of Terpsichore, 

Who walk quadrilles as stately as a Lancer ; 

Surely a slow inarch ne'er was meant to be 
The acme of perfection in a dancer ! 



MODERN FASHIONABLE DANCING. 



39 



But, 'tis not fair the fair should be traduced, 

And Poetry abhors the name of slander ; 
The Gallopade has now been introduced, 

And Pofe-onaise admired by Alexander. 
When the new year has seen the sixth new moon, 

And sultry Sol reminds us to be quiet, 
Almack's begins : — and, gallope-mg in June, 

The belles and beaux kick up a nightly riot. 
Fashion and Folly are near a-kin no doubt : 

The crowded ball-rooms create perspiration ; 
This may be healthy : — but, when at a rout, 

Let me have ample room for respiration. 




HOT-PRESSED 



40 



THE FOUNDATION 



BRAZEN-NOSE COLLEGE. 



'Twas when King Harry's arms in France prevailed — 
Who changed his wives and creed whene'er he chose : 

One he beheaded — t'other he curtailed, 
To suit his purpose ; so the story goes. 

Churchmen in those days were but jolly dogs; — 
At least if we judge from the Church's head — 

Some, it is true, were half starved pedagogues ; 
Others, less learned, were far better fed. 

But nathless, there were men of better feeling — 
Who altho' rich, yet felt their bowels yearning 

In aid of letters — like Sir Francis Freeling, 
And wished to give facility to learning. 




CUR-TAILING. 



BRAZEN-NOSE COLLEGE. 41 

One of this class — well known as Lincoln Will — 

A jolly, fat, good-natured sort of man, 
Having on earth, of good things had his fill, 

To turn his thoughts to Heaven now began. 

Tis said, when young, he was a roving wight, 
And oft walked miles, to shrive a pretty lass : 

That conscience now began his breast to smite, 
For tricks of early days — but let that pass. 

If he had lived a life of dissolution, 

He knew his dissolution must be near : — 

So resolutely formed the resolution 

Of doing something good — his road to clear. 

He knew he could not coax the tyrant Death, 

He was by far too wary and uncivil. 
And so made up his mind, while yet he'd breath, 

To hoax (at least to try and hoax) the Devil. 

The Purgatorial Doctrines which he taught, 

And Masses bought, to purge poor souls from hell, 

He placed no faith in, for perhaps he thought 
A dose of Epsom salts would do as weD. 



42 BRAZEN-NOSE COLLEGE. 

He said he'd build a church — but then he feared 
The evil one might lurk behind the door, 

As soon as he the stately fabric reared : 

The more he thought, he was perplexed the more. 

He next thought of a Hospital, that might 

Alleviate the sorrows which befal age : 
When suddenly — a kind of halo bright 

Played round his temples, and he cried — a College, 

How truly fasting clears the inward man ! 

That very morning did he set to work, 
And laid the first foundation of his plan, 

Before he deign'd to touch a knife and fork. 

Long 'ere the night her sable curtains drew, 
His system, discipline, and rules were framed : 

And all that now remained for him to do, 
Was, to determine what it should be named. 

Pleased he retired, and laid him down to rest : 
Musing on his dreams of future glory — 

A-mused no doubt — no doubts rose in his breast, 
That History some day would tell His story. 



BRAZEN-NOSE COLLEGE. 43 

The clock struck twelve — the candle burn'd quite blue, 
He thought he oleic it out — but was mistaken ; 

A sight he saw, so terrible to view, 

He was afraid he should not save his bacon. 

He tried to speak — but not a word could utter, 
Although his teeth kept chattering in his head : 

His pulse beat quick — his heart was in a flutter : 
He saw the Devil sitting on his bed. 

As every one so well his likeness knows, 

I need not place his portrait now before ye : — 

Further than state, he had a monstrous Nose 
Of Brass — long as a monstrous Yankee story. 

His hat and gloves from off the bedside fell, 
Which he picked up and placed upon a chair — 

He seem'd as though he had a tale to tell, 
And laid aside his lengthy tail with care. 

Soft as the stream which through the valley flows, 
When the last rays of daylight disappear, — 

So soft — when he began to blow his nose, 
Did sounds enchanting strike the ravish'd ear. 



44 



BRAZEN-NOSE COLLEGE. 



Not half so sweet in after years he played — 
When with Tartini he played off a joke ; 

Until cock-crow this strange musician stayed, 
Then — puff — he vanish'd in a cloud of smoke. 

The Sleeper now awoke — and cried aloud — 

" O, Heaven forgive my sins ! " — and then arose, 

His College built — established — and endowed ; 
And from that night he called it — Brazen-Nose. 




AN ORATOR OF BRAY'S .VOb£. 




SPARE RIB. 



45 



SUITOR JOHNNY. 



' Young Johnny saw the lovely bride, 
And for her ' Personals ' he sigh'd." 



" Scrapewell Hall ! O Scrapewell Hall ! 
Thou most inviting mansion — 
Where dwells my Ellen, of worth past telling, 
That gives my heart expansion. 

" With thy sweet lure, my heart secure, 
Around it brightly hovering ; 
Into my arms pour all thy charms, 
Be they my heart's sole sovereign. 

" Rib of my ribs ! I tell no fibs, 

) 
Thy shining worth I'm wooing ; 

Thy hoarded gains would ease my pains, 

And save my heart's undoing. 



46 SUITOR JOHNNY. 

"Oh! for a while grant me thy smile, 
And let it be thy pleasure 
To wed with me — thy worth shall be 
My only dearest treasure. 

" Give me thy worth — thy substance — sum — 
Sum total of affection : 
Fig for thy love, — give me a plum — 
Rich fruit for poor digestion. 

" Come to thine arbour, hear my ardour; 
(Thy deaf ear turn unto me) 
Yes ! give — 'tis all I ask — thy Hall — 
Thee harbouring, I'll woo thee. 

u Hear my fond sigh, and by this eye, 
That watches o'er thy money, 
Thou ne'er shalt see a fault in me — 
Thy loving suitor, Johnny !" 



HERE WE MEET TOO SOOV TO PART. 



TO A LADY. 



CELEBRATED FOR HER SKILL IX PAIXT-IXG. 



Hail ! Maiden skilled in Painting's magic shades, 

Pourtraying all on earth we hold most dear ; 
Guido, thy guide, before thy colour fades ; 

Rubens and Raphael well may shed a tear. 
Thy Tints in Tint-oietto we may see ; 

Vandyck and Titian thou hast left behind ; 
Sir Joshua might a lesson take from thee ; 
Of Claude some traces in thy touch we find. 
Who can behold thy skill without a sigh, 

Thy shades like Sol when sinking in the West, 
Eclipsing e'en the lightning of that eye, 

Where Wit and Beauty are so well exprest. 
Proceed, unrivalled, with thy daily task ; 

If to behold thy labours any seek, 
Oh ! grant but this one boon> 'tis all I ask, 

Let them approach and gaze upon thy cheek. 



48 



THE VILLAGE SPECTRE. 

A FEARFUL STORY. 



" I tell thee I see'd un last noight in the church- 
yearti, stalking about like the ghoast in Hamlutt at 
play'us Wednesday noight," — said the credulous Farmer 
Hodge to the incredulous village schoolmaster — " I see'd 
un as plain as I see thee now." 

He had been in vain endeavouring to convince this 
" Man of the Birch" of the reality of a Ghost he had 
seen the night before, a fact with which he had frightened 
the little principality out of their wits, though the parish 
clerk was the only real wit they possessed. 

The truth was, this same farmer Hodge was on his way 
from a neighbouring fair (it teas whispered he had seen 
more fairs than one) where both his standing and under- 
standing had been impaired, to the diminishing of his 




HAREM SCARE M. 



THE VILLAGE SPECTRE. 49 

profits, by too free use of the good things of this life ; 
and passing through the village church-yard late in the 
evening, with some confused idea of not being very com- 
fortable in his mind as to time and place, he heard a 
strange sound, — turned his eyes in the direction, and 
beheld a figure — certainly not a phantom, for his form was 
anything but airy, his body was covered with scales, and 
he was exclaiming aloud, with violent action ; and at in- 
tervals there resounded a deathlike laugh, as if from the 
vaults beneath. Every observation he made seemed, in 
the poor fanner's heated imagination, to apply to himself. 
At other times this spirit was dejected, and appeared 
quite out of spirits — nothing of the rfram-dtic in him. 

At length this fearful being muttered something about 
" lodge him there," which poor Hodge interpreting into 
" Hodge come here," set off harum scarwm, and at 
length after sundry stumblings and tumblings took refuge 
in the first house he came to (the ale house) with eyes 
distended and hair erect, like " quills upon the fretful 
porcupine,", exclaiming that the d — 1 was coming after 
him full gallop. This had an instantaneous- effect on the 
villagers assembled there, spending their Saturday night, 
and, " leaving the d — 1 to pay the reckoning," they all 
scampered home, much to the joy of their better halves, 



50 THE VILLAGE SPECTRE. 

who expected to find them with other spirits in their 
noddles, than the one which now filled their brains. 
~ The next morning many were the curious groups to 
whom Hodge had to relate his dreadful tale, and the 
parish priest was in danger of having but few auditors to 
his spiritual exhortations, so much was the church-yard 
feared on account of its ghostly inhabitant. 

The souls as well as bodies of the people being now in 
danger, it was high time for the matter to be looked 
into. A council of four therefore met — the lawyer, the 
priest, the doctor, and the schoolmaster — to debate on 
what could be done to exterminate this nuisance, and it 
was agreed that the priest (well back'd by the other 
parish authorities) should spirit away the prince of dark- 
ness — for such they had declared him. 

Accordingly, between the hours of eleven and twelve at 
night, there repaired to the scene of action the three 
great dignitaries aforesaid, (Law, Physic, and Divinity,) 
attended by the parish constable with a mittimus from 
a neighbouring "just-ass" (no wiser than the rest) and 
a posse comitatus, who slowly kept the " even tenor of 
their way," until they came in sight of the apparition, in 
the same situation, and to the full as terrific as Hodge 
had depicted him the previous night. 




LAW, PHYSIC, AND DIVINITY. 



THE VILLAGE SPECTRE. 51 

Fearing his flock might witness some of his " devilish" 
pranks to the disparagement of their morals, the priest at 
once began his exorcism — " Pater noster." He had said 
thus much when the Demon, hearing the noise, pricked 
up his ears, and looking towards the assembled captors 
(no very captivating assembly) approached them. This was 
the signal for dispersion. A cannon ball could not have 
sooner quelled the " valorous spirit of the natives," and in 

a short time the village of D witnessed a second flight 

as complete as the first, the poor inhabitants more alarmed 
than ever, making the remedy worse than the disease. 

The next evening was the second night of performance 
of a company of Strolling Players, which being rather 
an unusual sight for the village of which we chronicle, 
the audience was composed of all who could afford to 
spend three-pence, the humble price of admission. Six 
o'clock comes — all hearts beat high with expectation : 
seven — and they are comfortably seated : eight — and the 
first act has closed, the audience in perfect good humour : 
the second act commences — they, with the greatest impa- 
tience, waiting for the first entree — when lo! to their 
universal terror, a figure appears (associated with no very 
pleasant recollections as regards the major part of the 
company) in a flame of ftre-^the Church-Yard Spectre!! 
e -2 



52 THE VILLAGE SPECTRE. 

A universal rush to the doors took place, amidst cursings 
and swearings, and away flew the villagers for the third 
time, each one considering it as a judgment on himself 
for entering that " abode of sin" or, as they now thought — 
of Satan. 

The mystery was not solved 'till the following morning, 
when the manager of the aforesaid strollers called upon 
the reverend gentleman, and stated that his company had 
fixed their quarters in a barn contiguous to the church ; 
but wanting more space, they had ventured upon the 
lateness of the hour to rehearse in the church yard, 
the entertainment of the " Bottle Imp" (the piece per- 
formed for the first time, on the Monday evening), and the 
phantom of this story was no less a personage than — 




THE BOTTLE IMP — 
THE DESTROYER OF MANKIND. 




The 
subject 
of the fol- 
lowing Letter 
originated in an 
attempt to sell at 
Tattersall's, a very cele- 
brated Egyptian horse of 

HIGH METTLE, 

CALLED HERO, 

in his own country of high value, 

but whose vicious temper finally 

brought him under the hammer at 

Aldridge's ; — where the base lovers of 

LOW METAL 

suffered the brave animal to be knocked down 

for the sum of Three Pounds ! — (Addressed by 

the owner of this noble animal to his friend in London.) 



EGYPT'S LAMENT. 

At the result of your enquiries, 

The Red Sea raged — loud ioar'd Osiris, 

No crocodile could longer brook, 
In slumber tranquilly to snooze 

Upon the Nile's insulted ooze. 

With passion Pompey's pillar shook! 
In fiercest flames of wounded pride, 
Was the last drop of gravy fried, 

Of Cleopatra's needle's eye. 



54 Egypt's lament. 

The Mummies, (for their jaws were locked, 
Looking however deeply shocked,) 

Could only groan and sigh. 
The Pyramids, whose firm built nest 
No hurricane could e'er molest, 

By time's nails quite unscratched ; 
Who brooding sate upon the earth, 
For ages yet to nought gave birth, 

And only wonder hatch'd, 
Curvetting like brisk May-born lambs, 
Or jumpers in putrescent hams, 

With indignation bounded. 
While the ^Enigma-loving Sphinx 
Declared with many tear-fraught winks, 

Her own brains half confounded. 
Each Mosque in Alexandria frets ; 
Grand Cairo's tell-tale minarets 

And muezzins proclaim, 
The terms with which the recreant Mews 
Had dared to injure and abuse, 

A fam'd Egyptian name. 
The genius of the desart howl'd, 
The Arab's darkling visage scowl'd, 

Re-echoed bello wings ran ; 



EGYPT S LAMENT. 55 

While camels tossed their high heads higher, 
(Excited less by thirst than ire,) 

Throughout each caravan. 
Up started Pharaoh's angry ghost, 
From right to left kick'd all his host, 

And vehemently swore, 
To hear such falsehoods plagu'd him worse, 
(For he'd enjoyed curse after curse) 

Than all his plagues before. 
Oh ! may each sland'rer's stubborn neck 
The halter's cravat straight bedeck, 

And to the rack be tied ; 
Their teeth let jagged pitchforks pick, 
And rusty curiycombs thick stick 

In each tormented hide : 
May twitches their pinch' d nostrils clinch, 
Their tails be dock't inch after inch, 

Ears fox't and sinews blistered ; 
May iron shoes, red hissing hot, 
Be nailed on ev'ry corn they've got, 

Who have such scandal whispered.. 
Sweet persecuted saint, whose mood 
Is thus so little understood ! 

Should he his hoof uplift ? 



56 Egypt's lament. 

'Tis but a mark of condescension, 
A test of courtesy's extension, 

As proved by sage Dean Swift.* 
I'd rather give him to the hounds, 
Than barter for mere twenty pounds 

This pattern of horse heroes ; 
Whose manners degage and free, 
Those sons of muck and dung agree 

Are truculent as Nero's. 
Because, forsooth, he neighs aloud, 
Of inborn worth and vigour proud, 

Paws, snorts, and rears his crest ; 
His voice, shape, movements, eye of fire, 
The lineage of his dam and sire, 

Most brilliantly confest. 
But worldly wisdom cries retract, 
Nor further meditate the act, 

Of giving dogs such dinners : 
These pounds, tho' few, had best be spent, 
In cordial drops of merriment, 

For self and social sinners ! 

* Gulliver's Voyage to the Houyhnmns. 




SEVENTY-FOUR AND A TENDER. 



57 



MY GRENADIER. 



When first I saw my Grenadier, 

And ran away from home, 
In tears I left my granny-dear, 

A Soldier's wife to roam. 

For he was handsome, when he smiled 

I own I loved him rather ; 
He said I was my father's child, 

Now he is my child's father. 

When first we wed, it must he owned, 
Dame Fortune smiled on us ; — 

For years, mis-fortune now has frowned, 
And we have felt her curse. 



58 MY GRENADIER. 

Long time I trudged the wide world o'er, 
And cheerful bore the pack, 

But now my pack is quite a bore, 
With children at my back. 

That soldiers live a happy life, 

I own I once thought true, 
But would not be a soldier's wife — 

Could I my life renew.- 

In battle, I got in the rear, 
For fear of Congreve rockets, 

And used to rock my baby dear, 
And pick dead soldiers' pockets. 

His cap and feather in the fight, 
Were shot away once, — slap, 

But all his comrades said, 'twas quite 
A feather in his cap. 

Once in a battle, standing by, 
To hold the Colonel's pie-ball, 

A bullet struck my soldier's eye, 
They said it was an eye-ball. 




A MATCH TOO MUCH BRIMSTONE. 



MY GRENADIER. 59 

I've heard him talk of storming towns, 

And taking by assault, 
But now — Lord ! how he storms and frowns 

If I forget the salt. 

He talks sometimes of breaches made, 

Of ambuscades he brags ; 
But now — his breeches, I'm afraid, 

Are almost worn to rags. 

Ah ! once he used to shoulder amis. 

No red-coat ever bolder : 
But now he's got, thro' war's alarms. 

But one arm left to shoulder. 

There was a time he said, that I 

Possessed his soul's dominion : 
I know that that is all my eye, 

He has changed his opinion. 

Ah ! once his polished bag-o-net 

Thro' Frenchmen's bodies ran ; 
Now cabbage nets we two do net, 

To cabbage what we can. 



60 MY GRENADIER. 

Once too he wore a coat of red, 

And knapsack at his back : 
Now coat and back, it may be said, 

Have neither nap nor sack. 

When young he used to be a beau, 
How time poor men abuses : 

Sometimes he fiddles as we go, 
And then his bow he uses. 

And when we danc'd sometimes all night, 
What handsome legs he'd show ; 

But now one leg is shrivelled quite, 
And one's a timber toe. 

I know his match, I've often said, 
Could not on earth be found : 

By matches now we gain our bread, 
And trudge the country round. 

But still he is my Grenadier, 

And still I am his Fanny : 
I wish I still lov'd him as dear, 

As once I lov'd dear Granny. 



61 



COMPOSING AND DE-COMPOSING. 



" Music hath charms to soothe the savage breast." 

The soothing powers of Music have been celebrated 
from the remotest ages, when David played before Saul ; 
and in profane history we are told that the art, as practised 
by Orpheus, possessed the charm of consigning even the 
lynx-eyed guardian of the infernal regions, into the anus 
of M-Orpheus. In our own days the effects are much 
the same, for cast your eyes round the King's Theatre 
during the performance of Rossini's most elaborate recita- 
tivos, and you will rind many of the dilettanti wholly un- 
conscious of the floating sounds, and tasting the sweets of 
" great nature's second source." If, therefore, the Italian 
Opera, the fountain head of music in this country, where 
neither pains nor expence are spared to obtain performers 
of the greatest celebrity, administers to part of the audi- 
tory a gentle opiate, can we wonder, when Lord R. 



62 COMPOSING AND DE-COMPOSING. 

granted an interview to Signor Solini, and suffered the 
infliction of some sixty pages of recitativos and arias 
(not very airy,) of a new opera which he wished to force 
down John Bull's throat, that, on turning to ask his Lord- 
ship's opinion of the opening chorus of the third act, just 
concluded, Solini should find his noble patron, insensible 
to the beauties of melody, enjoying a very comfortable 
nap. 

But music does not always act thus ; if it has its piano, 
it has also its forte, and veiy frequently a piano-forte. A 
bag-pipe has been known to revive the ardour and re-kindle 
the courage of a regiment of Highlanders, when their 
defeat and retreat seemed inevitable, and to make them 
fight like lions. The dying war-horse will start from the 
ground, in the agonies of death, on hearing the brazen 
trumpet sound the well-known charge ; and the scraping 
of a three-stringed fiddle at a wake, will set Paddy's heart 
in a blaze, and, in the pleasures of a lilt, efface the remem- 
brance of the loudest sorrow. I say loudest, because, in 
Ireland, the quantum of sorrow is measured by the howls 
of the mourner. 

Sir Charles fancied himself a first-rate violinist, and if 
the old adage be true, that " practice makes perfect," he 
certainly had arrived at perfection. One morning, when 
in the midst of one of Mori's Pot Pourris, his ears were 




ONL liCUAPEIl AT A DOOR ENOUGH. 



COMPOSING AND DE-COMPOSING. 63 

very unceremoniously assailed, by the scratching of an 
old blind fiddler executing Maggie Lauder in flats and 
sharps, immediately under his window, in the most un- 
natural manner. It was but the impulse of a moment to 
ring the bell, and desire John to drive the utterer of coun- 
terfeit notes away from the door. This was not, however, 
so easily accomplished. The scraper demurred to this 
summary sentence of transportation, and would not be kept 
at bay, for though out of sight he was not out of mind, and 
continued so long within hearing, that the amateur wished 
him hanged, and was obliged to suspend his performance. 
The next day, at the same hour, while Sir Charles was 
practising the same subject, came the itinerant scraper of 
cat-gut ; — the same orders were repeated w ith the addi- 
tion, that he was to evacuate the street altogether. This 
however, the melodious murderer declined doing — al- 
leging, "that he was a poor old man, who subsisted upon 
the charity awakened by his fiddle, — that many benevolent 
ladies and gentlemen lived in that street, who were in the 
habit of throwing him half-pence, the loss of which would 
to him be a very great privation." — Sir Charles was glad to 
purchase an honourable peace, on the terms prescribed by 
his enemy, — viz. six-pence per week, being satisfied that 
one scraper at his door was sufficient. 



64 



FRIEND OF MY SOUL. 



LAST EDITION. 



Friend of my soul, this tankard sip, 

'Twill banish care and fear, 
'Tis not so hot as gin or flip, 

But ah ! 'tis good strong beer : 
Like their delusive dreams 

'Twill gently soothe thy mind, 
But when next morning beams, 

It leaves no fumes behind. 

Come take my hat, thy face to shade, 

The sun shines hot at noon : — 
Like Phoebus' rays thy cheeks may fade, 

But ah ! not half so soon. 
For tho' thy charms decay, 

Thou still art in my sight, 
But Phoebus shines by day, 

And leaves us every night. 




THE SCHOOLMASTER ABROAD. 







65 



ON BATHING. 



Oh ! who lias never dabbled in the sea, 

Or else seen others dabble — 'tis the same — 
For all go to be seen — or eke to see 

Amphibious animals without a name. 
Soon as the summer's sun begins to shine, 

And oftentimes before— what crowds flock down ! 
Billingsgate beauties, beaus who slaughter swine, 

Fly from the dust of London's dusty town. 

Oh! then, the splashing in the sea begins, 
Fat chubby nymphs are soused and soused again, 

Immersed in ocean to their very chins, 

Regardless how they weep, scream, or complain. 

F 



66 ON BATHING. 

" I don't like that great ugly woman — Ma ! 

She took me off my legs and plump'd me in 
Before I was aware — I never saw 

So strange a creature, naught but bone and skin." 
" Oh never mind the fright, my dear ; consider 

How very healthy a cold bath is deemed ; 
Of all your freckles too, you must get rid, or 

Else your charms will never be esteemed." 
A sort of hydro-mania seems to rage 

In every bosom, whether young or old, 
Female or male. Both sexes, every age 

Does Neptune in his briny arms enfold. 

When sable night her starry night-cap wore, 

And was in bed, most comfortably tucked up, 
Old Boreas once became a shocking bore, 

And walls knocked down, and palisadoes plucked up. 
At morn the wind blew fresh, tho' salt the sea ; 

There was a little fat bald-headed man — 
Few ventured out— yet boldly vent'ring he, 

His carcase launched from out the caravan. 
Pleased with his skill, he like a porpus rolled, 

Plunging and splashing, tumbling o'er and o'er, 




A COLD LATH. 




A HOT BATH. 



ON BATHING. 67 

When a fierce wave made him let go his hold, 
And landed him stark naked on the shore : 

Confused, ashamed, poor Toby scrambled back, 
Amid the shouts and laughter of the throng, 

And quickly left the town ; but was, alack ! 
For months the theme of many a merry song. 

But there are baths more like thy spring — Oh Iceland ! 

Thy boiling Geyser! gazed on for its heat. 
Those who love ices, say thou art a n-ice land, 

I don't mean Isis, famed as learning's seat. 
I wonder Tawnies from Hindostan's coast, 

Ne'er ventured to pay homage at thy shrine, 
Thou queen of hot-wells ! Bath itself can't 1 

So very hot a hot-bath, as is thine. 
Both Cheltenham and Harrow gate are swarming, 

(Fam'd for salt waters, not a briny sea) 
With their sweet baths how many take a warming. 

And purge or purify themselves with glee. 
Within the -vapour bath some sit and quaff 

Sulphureous fumes imported fresh from h — 11. 
The very devils sit below and laugh, 

To see their plans on earth succeed so well. 
f2 



68 ON BATHING. 

Then there's shampooing ; I'd almost forgot it ; 

How truly is it called both sham — and pooh-ing, 
Rubbing and tickling by a black — od rot it ! 

What next, I wonder, will mad folks be doing. 



Last, tho' not least, the pumping bath I name, 

'Tis celebrated only of late years ; 
But well approved, established quite its fame, 

And pumping now of wondrous use appears. 
Does but your leg, your arm, or shoulder ache, 

You'll find your surgeon has forthwith prescribed, 
That you ten yards of aqua pumpis take, 

Three times a day, as here below described. 




A CURE FOR SLEIGHT OF HAND. 



69 



PUNS ON PUNNING; 



OR, 



HINTS TO A PUNSTER. 



A good Pun like good pun-ch must possess plenty of 
spirit, but care must be taken that it does not call forth 
a pun-ch on the head, as is generally the case with ptm~ 
chinello. This, however, cannot always be avoided, as 
those who make puns seldom stand on pim-ctilio. He 
who attempts to pun, must be able to give it punto, 
and it is also requisite that, if he expects to escape w itli 
im-pun-ity, he should be well provided with contra- 
punto. Although it is not necessary that a punster 
should be pun-ctaal, yet in order to make a pun stir, he 



70 



HINTS ON PUNNING. 



should carefully avoid any thing puny, and attend to 
jwm-ctuation. To conclude : — a pun, like currie powder, 
is nothing without it is pun-gent, but if it should meet 
with punishment, it can only be submitted to like 




PATIENCE ON A PUN-CHEON. 



71 



THE 



WATERMAN'S SOLILOQUY. 



Well ! things are coming to a pretty pass, 

I think the end o'th' world will soon begin : — 
Some years ago, I used to get a glass 

O' gin an 5 bitters — now I gets no gin, 
But lots o' bitters. Now an honest man 
Can't get no work — no, blow me if he can. — 
We shaVt be able soon to see our way, 

There's such a sight o' bridges building now — 
And then they'll want gas lights to burn all day, 

But they won't take one lighter-man in tow. 
My poor old wherry's wery near worn out — 

Folks never think o' taking wherries now ; 



72 THE WATERMAN. 

And I have got the rheumatiz' an' gout — 

But how to get clear on 'em I don't know. 
The Steamers, tho' they do make lots of smoke, 

Used once to bring us many a bite an' sup : 
But now — folks walk ashore — a pretty joke ! 

I wish them cursed quays were all locked up. 
1 know the time, when I've earned two-pun-ten 

In sixpences, a dozen at a time : 
Such days as those I ne'er shall see again — 

I'm getting old — I've long been past my prime. 
Then, 'cause we've got no bridges — there's Brunei 

Must build one under ground — the curs' d Thames Tunnel : 
My eye — if he but knowed what I could tell, 

How we contrived to make his work a funnel ! 
I dare say we shall soon have on the water — 

Steam omnibuses — plying for a fare : 
If so — why then thank God I've lost my daughter 

An' my old woman— they're a happy pair ! 
Things seem to be a-goin upside down ! 

Carts, horses, waggons, porters with their loads, 
Go under all the new bridges in town, 

And arches now cross over streets an' roads. 
Perhaps the Thames will be Macadamized, 

And broad wheel waggons roll along like thunder ; 



HM. 



THE WATERMAN. 



73 



And if they do— I shouldn't be surprised, 

I've seen such strange things, nothing makes me wonder. 
Once after plying heartily all day, 

Tom Tug an' I could play a game o 1 skittles — 
Now plying hard won't earn enough to pay 

For bacca, lodgin, washin, and my wittles. 




A SCULL-ING MATCH. 



74 



AN ESSAY ON A BOOT. 



" An Essay on a Boot" — ha ! ha ! — It betrays a most 
lamentable paucity of subjects, when a person soberly sits 
down to write an essay upon such a tough subject. But 
thanks to Spectator, Rambler and Co., they have so well 
disposed of all the good ones, that after-writers are left 
without a leg to stand on — so I prefer a boot. 

It has been truly said that you may write an Essay 
upon nothing. Nothing occurs more frequently in the 
English language than nothing — and nothing is com- 
moner with us than nothing — nothing like sense can be 
made of this word nothing. You might write a chapter 
of nothings — which, by-the-bye, many authors do. But I 
am wandering from my subject, and that without consi- 
deration ; for who would wander without his boot, unless 
he expected to make his fortune, by turning flint stones 
into patent corn cutters. 




" BOOTS. 



AN ESSAY ON A BOOT. 75 

I have chosen an individual Boot for my subject, a 
singular choice certainly, but I made sure of the 
first idea, the last in hand, and my awl to boot ; still, 
to make assurance doubly sure, I will pare off a little 
of my tough material to introduce a tougher, — that 
useful understrapper of the household, or stable-yard 
domestic, well fitted like a shoe to the Inn and out- 
ofhces, — " Boots ; " whose person would betray that 
he stands in-kneed, as well as his purse, although it 
may be said, he draws from hand and foot; unlike 
the fiddler, who gets more kicks than halfpence. The 
most brilliant black-legs shine brighter in his hands. 
In his own handi-craft, proverbially " sly," they employ 
their craft in vain to find Booty on his slippery person. 

By its testimony, a Boot may establish the doctrine set 
up as to the power of language in the brute creation : for 
how rarely do we see a lady's boot without a tongue ? 
and I should incline to look upon this boot with venera- 
tion, considering the kingly company it may have entered : 
again, with a feeling of vanity, as by the aid of " Day 
and Martin's best," it is more than probable- it may serve 
the purpose of a looking glass. 

But very cynical critics will say that it is easy to write 
nonsense on any subject ; (so it is) and further that this 



76 AN ESSAY ON A BOOT. 

my protege could not apply itself to any honourable 
employment ; I would ask how often this very boot may 
have been raised to seats of honour ? I will also endeavour 
to face these worthies to their very teeth, inasmuch as I 
facetiously believe in the mental superiority of a boot, 
for who can deny that the noblest part of man is his 
under-standing? — What handicraft would make a boot 
without a sole ? And who will say that it is not ever- 
lasting, seeing that a boot is always made to last. 

If however the subject of my essay has not become a 
handy member of society, (all agree that it is rendered 
subservient to one member — the foot) it can only be 
accounted for by the fact of its having originally been 
cowed ; for are not the instances innumerable, of a noble 
soul having been in the end trampled upon and trodden 
under foot ? 




EXPANSION OF THE UNDER-STANDING. 




COMMITTING FORGERY. 



77 



A GREAT SINNER. 



I am a very wicked man 
As e'er was left unhung, 

Since I to learn my trade began 
When I was very young. 

In Forgery I'm an adept 

It truly may be said, 
For by my forge myself I've kept 

And earned my daily bread. 

When at the anvil, Joe and me 
For work have doffed our coats, 

If you looked in, you'd find that we 
Were issuing forged notes. 



A GREAT SINNER. 



By picking locks I've gained much wealth, 

I've broken open doors, 
I've entered houses too by stealth, 

By dozens and by scores. 

There's not a Vice that you can name, 

Of which I'm not possessed ; 
My works will prove it — to my shame, 

And yet I am caressed. 

The worst remains yet to be told, 

Remorse my bosom swells, 
For love of lucre — filthy gain, 

I have, alas ! hung Belles. 

With all my faults — the noise and strife 
In which I've passed my days — 

I never led a vicious life, 
But strove to merit praise. 

To all, this sound advice I give, 

Nor let it be forgot ; — 
If prosp'rously you wish to live, 

Strike while the Iron's hot ! 



79 



THE 



BLUE-STOCKING BELLE. 



Lord Cabandash loved a young lady, 
A belle of the "stockings of blue:" 
And many a subterfuge made he, 
To obtain her permission to woo ; — 
My Lord was a lover of ladies, 
And bright eyes liked better than wine, 
Had seen all the beauties of Cadiz — 
And those on the banks of the Rhine ; 
Had sigh'd to the fair in the city, 
And vowed to the belle of the ball ; 
Devoted himself to the witty, — 
But the blue-belle was dearer than all. 



80 THE BLUE-STOCKING BELLE. 

Like a ghost, this fair one he haunted, 
Wherever she went would repair ; 
Near her in the church he had chaunted — 
And mingled his sighs with a prayer. 
A box at the opera had taken 
To see, and be seen, by "mamma"— 
His elbow at Crockford's had shaken, 
In hopes to be known to papa ; — 
And thus, every means he invented, 
To know and be known to the fair, 
Fate — somehow or other, prevented — 
Save, when she was taking the air. 

She — like an invisible fairy, 

In parties was not to be seen — 

But would in the park, when unwary, 

Flit by like a shade on the green : — 

Then after her carriage he capered, 

To try to o'ertake her he flew, 

She saw how he started and vapoured — 

Like one with the Tic doloureux ; 

But, like the fair flower she resembled, 

She modestly hung down her head — 




FORLORN IIOI'L. 



THE BLUE STOCKING BELLE. 81 

Turn'd from his wild gazing and trembled, 
And conjectured his reason had fled. 

He heard she was all love and duty, 

Profound too in classical lore ; 

He saw she was young and a beauty, 

And what would his Lordship have more ? 

Not to love the fair fascination, 

What argument could be deduced ? 

Alas ! to his heart's palpitation, 

He never could get introduced. 

A friend offered soon to present him, 

As soon as the blue belle came out ; 

Who told him — "he sure would repent him. 

'Ere to leap he should first look about." 

At length — nothing more could delight him — 
\ ticket was sent for a ball, 
"Hope deferred" now came to requite him. 
And happiness seemed to recal. 
With rapture he dwelt on the meeting, 
And all the fine things he would say : 
In fancy he pictured her greeting — 
Her eloquence how she'd display. 



82 THE BLUE STOCKING BELLE. 

In speaking, and blushing, and smiling, 
He thought on the fair of his choice : 
Above all, how sweetly beguiling, 
The eloquent tones of her voice. 

The pains which he took in attiring — 

The twisting of this way and that ; 

He puzzled himself with admiring 

The tie of his unique cravat : 

His hair was brushed up a-la-Brutus ; 

His whiskers were cut to the tip, 

As fierce as the fam'd William Rufus, 

Mustachios curled over the lip. 

With puffing, and stuffing, and wadding, 

And, wasp-like, pinch'd in at the waist ; 

Completing his figure by padding, 

He call'd for his carnage in haste. 

But oh! when the ball room he entered, 
Not thinking of sorrows to come j 
To address his beloved he ventured, 
And found to his grief — she was dumb ! 
Her mother was sitting before her, 
Applications began on to preach ; 



THE BLUE STOCKING BELLE. 



83 



And told the devoted adorer — 

That her daughter was wanting in speech. 

From her presence, distracted he flew, 

Leaving this for her mother to tell, 

" Let her stockings be ever so blue, 

" I never can wed a Dumb Belle! " 




A DUMB WAITER. 



g2 



84 



SONNET ON A LAP DOG. 



BY A LADY. 



Dear Innocent, sit still upon my lap, 

And there shalt thou still sit and lap thy milk ; 
On my silk dress lie down and eat thy pap, 

And I will dress thy downy coat of silk. 
Though not in vain I tell thee to lie down, 

A lie thy tongue has never yet told me ; 
Thou hast a long and bushy tail I own, 

And yet no tell-tale have I e'er found thee. 
Sometimes it must be owned that thou dost whine, 

Yet thou in wine committest no excess. 
Oft with eclat, my darling, dost thou shine, 

And sometimes do thy claws destroy my dress. 
Though not obliged to beg, it may be said, 

Upon thy latter end thou sitt'st to beg thy bread. 




TRAVELLERS SEE STRANGE THINGS. 



85 



A TALE OF THE ROAD. 



Who has not travelled up or clown the road. 
Or who has never rode upon the highway ; 

Who on high roads has ne'er a horse bestrode, 
Or on a donkey crawled along a by-way ? 

That travellers see strange things, none e'er deny, 
Especially if in strange parts they travel ; 

But those who tell whate'er has met their eye 
At home, leave not such wonders to unravel. 

La Roche at Cheltenham gained his livelihood, 
By teaching John Bull's daughters how to dance 

The Polonaise, Mazurka, Waltz, and stood 

In high esteem, — because he came from France. 



86 A TALE OF THE ROAD. 

When about two years there had rolled away, 
Some business called him up to London's city ; 

He came, and after two or three days' stay, 
Wished to return — but here begins my ditty. 

I think I told you Monsieur came from France, 
I should have said that he was a Parisian, 

And though well qualified to teach " la danse," 
He was a sorry English rhetorician. 

The coach office he entered, " Please you, sare, 

I vant to go upon de coach's top 
To-morrow morning ; combien is de fare 

To Chat-ty-ham " — and there he made a stop. 

" Six shillings," was the answer. Monsieur stared : 
W 7 hen he came up, it one pound four had cost. 

He shrugged his shoulders, but he little cared, 
If he got home, how little cash he lost. 

He paid the money, thinking very wisely 
The office keeper was mistaken surely ; 

No matter that, it suited him precisely 

To save his money, though not very poor-ly. 



A TALE OF THE ROAD. 87 

Next morning early was the Frenchman there, 
And soon upon the coach top he was seated ; 

Pleased with himself, to think how in the fare, 
The coachman he had thus so fairly cheated. 

At length all duly packed, away they roll, 
The cries of London fading in the wind ; 

True as the magnet pointing to the pole, 
The pole is followed by the wheels behind. 

Beside him sate two sailors laughing loud ; 

Monsieur had not a single sentence spoken, 
And after three horns' travelling in a cloud 

Of dust, the Frenchman's silence thus was broken. 

" Sal ve not stop some vere to break ouv fast ? " 
" Oh yes, and dine too if you like," said Jack, 

u But breakfast time, I think, is now time past, 
And I hope soon a round of beef to hack." 

The Frenchman paused, but not without surprise. 

Soon afterwards they gained a hilly ridge, 
From whence a winding river met his eyes, 

With boats and shipping ; over it a bridge ► 



88 A TALE OF THE ROAD. 

Monsieur enquired, '< Pray vat bridge is dat, sare ? " 
" 'Tis Rochester, 5 ' said Jack. Monsieur looked blue ; 

" No, you mistake, dat can't be Ro-ches-tare." 

" Why what d'ye mean, you d — d French parleyvoo," 

Said Jack ; " 'tis Rochester, and that I'll swear." 

Oh, had you seen the Frenchman's face ! " Got dam," 

He roared, "for what bring me to Ro-ches-tare ; 
I pay de fare to go to Chat-ty-ham." 

The Frenchman raved and stormed, he curs'd aloud 
In French and English, dancing up and down ; 

And when the coach stopt, he drew quite a crowd 
Outside the Inn door ; 'twas in Chatham town. 

On the coach top Monsieur maintained his seat, 
Nor would get down, not e'en his fast to break ; 

He swore it was a most infernal cheat, 
And would not listen to the word, mistake. 

He cursed the horses, and he d — d the coach, 
Venting his spleen on all, he sat and chafed ; 

Poor coachee, too, came in for his reproach ; 
The more he swore, the more the rabble laughed. 



A TALE OF THE ROAD. 89 

He heeded not the jeers and jokes around, 
Fierce in his bosom still his anger burned ; 

Boldly aloft, the Frenchman kept his ground, 
And in the afternoon the coach returned. 

Next morning to the Mansion-house he went, 
Before the Lord Mayor his complaint to lay, 

To state his grievance, to his rage give vent, 
And make poor coachee his expenses pay. 

" Ah Monseigneur ! pardon — Monsieur Lor Mare, 

I yesterday took coach to go from town 
To Chat-ty-ham, and I did pay de fare, 

When dat dam tief in Shatham put me down, 

" One hunder mile from vere I vant to go : 

Ask him my Lor, de rogue cannot deny 
What now I say, ask him if 'tis not so ? " 

The Lord Mayor smiled, and coachee made reply. 

" My Lord, this here French Mounseer paid'his fare, 
And said to Chat-ty-ham he wish'd to go ; 

But when at Chatham, Lord ! how he did swear, 
Because I drove him there ! That's all I know." 



90 



A TALE OF THE ROAD. 



And after much cross questioning, they found 

'Twas Cheltenham th' unlucky Frenchman meant : 

That Chattyham being like it in sound, 

Had caused his being down to Chatham sent. 

In vain they told him that it was all fair, 

The blunder lay in his pronunciation ; 
Monsieur bounced out, first damning the Lord Mayor, 

The coach, the coachman, and the English nation. 




A BRITISH CHARGE DE FARE. 



91 



A SKETCH 



TAKEN FROM REAL LIFE. 



®fje Character of tf)e ®ttr Btgltsfj Yeoman. 



" I shall not look upon his like again." 

Shakspeare. 



This pillar of Old England is nearly crumbled away ; 
this characteristic of a nation, certainly great in modern 
history, is a " by-gone." It is grievous to find by what 
slow imperceptible paces the sturdy mind becomes 
paralized, and assumes a new cast. But we cannot 
allow by-gones to be altogether by-gones ; let us 
keep awhile to this order of inversion, and no longer 
viewing the die as cast, with the defunct Falstaff, cast 
the die in a brief essay on the imaginary return to life 
of the laughter-loving, laughter-moving Knight. 



92 A SKETCH. 

Thus Sir John revives, and, in musing mood, thinks 
of olden times and ancient haunts ; he revisits Old 
England, but quick discerns that the merry days in 
the North and South are fled. He stalks to the East ; 
theu strides along in swoln passion to the West, and 
there his mournful ire is somewhat quenched, his 
mirthful air returns. Arrived at a good old farm house ; 
barns well stored, and fields well stocked ; cattle fat 
and sleek, chirping birds and chuckling broods ; chubby 
brats in their leathern dicks, running about the village, 
like frisking lambs in playful gambol ; labourers with 
look contented, and, in their daily toil, the heart vying 
with the hand. At this scene our joyous Knight puts on 
his wonted joyful smile, and with jollity of soul seeks out 
the " happy owner of the spot." Lustily he shouts to some 
merry chaps keeping up the ball on light fantastic toe, 
who respond that Farmer Stubbs is now coming up the 
road jogging homewards. FalstafF espies an old white 
galloway with ears and tail as nature gave them (in other 
crops the farmer took a pride) and on Jenny's back 
sits a fine old man, of height and breadth, in form and 
feature, a model of by-gone times, when the true genuine 
English Yeoman grew his full growth, and lived all 
his life, instead of existing, as now, merely to endure 




ROUND OF BEEF. 



A SKETCH. 93 

existence ; with thick and well ribbed leggings capping 
his knees, to save his thin grey hose and joints within 
alike from perishing ; and over his well-worn coat, a 
cloth armour, called a spencer, as a shield against that 
formidable trio of wind, rain, and cold. Falstaff and the 
Fanner met, and reciprocated the well-known salutation 
and shake of past times, the honest heart responding to 
the hand. Master Stubbs with all the homeliness of Old 
English hospitality, exclaims, " Come in, friend, come in, 
it is now meal time ; my Dame, mayhap, has got some 
round of beef, and flitch of bacon — do step in, friend, let 
us first break bread together, then from our own good 
brewing get merry, and afterwards walk and talk." It 
is real Heart all, — the best bit, the best sup, and the best 
seat at mine host's board, for the welcome stranger. The 
comfortable meal is taken, the yet more comforting 
" forty winks" enjoyed. 

Falstaff with his friend then stroll out to survey, at 
ease, this and that improvement of his land, the farmer 
beguiling the way with the solid remarks and ex- 
perience of a man who, by making nature his study, 
has raised himself in intellect and independence above 
his fellow beings. The Knight grows more enamoured 
of his companion, and, returning to the farm-house, 



94 A SKETCH. 

bespeaks a bed to tarry the night; one of suitable 
dimensions is accordingly erected firm as a scaffolding 
in the Store Room. Falstaff, now taking " double sight," 
enjoys the prospect of a roasted barn-door fowl for 
supper, and tankard of real October. His platter 
well plenished, — to his no small amazement and amuse- 
ment, the hostess puts a basin of boiled milk before. 
the old yeoman, who as quietly puts to it divers ingre- 
dients of bread, salt, and pepper. " Make free, Sir," 
said he ; " I hope you like the chicken ! Pray make 
welcome, Sir, as the flowers in May." 

The Knight gets on cheerily, and nought at the feast 
does he pass over, but makes himself merry, his mirth 
increased withal by the quaint humour of mine host. 
The farmer's basin of milk is no sooner emptied, than an 
old serving man attends his master, with a silver pint of 
strong October, and places it in due form by his side. The 
farmer now takes with glee the second liquid dose, and 
while drinking it, gaily indulges in the following inter- 
lude : 

" He that would wish to live for ever, 
Must wash the Milk from off his liver." 

A bell now tingles ; for the venerable host, verging on a 
century, after the good old fashion, sets and rises with the 



A SKETCH. 



95 



sun ; his men and maids are called to family prayer, 
simple yet suited to the purposes of their quiet, useful 
lives. The farmer puts on his cap, and the Knight 
retires to his room, for once surpassing himself, for he 
now passes a good night — recals the incidents of his 
previous day's call — the unostentatious manners of his 
hospitable host, whose entertainment and good cheer 
reminded Falstaff of times gone by; and, in a good 
humour waking, he as good-humouredly resolved to 
place this sketch in his Comic Annual as a fleeting 
vision, or 




A TAIL OF THE OLDEX TIME. 



96 



REASONS FOR DRINKING. 



Said Tom to Hal, " I cannot think, 
What has made you so fond of drink ; 
Whenever I your windows pass, 
I see a bottle and a glass : 
Besides, your very looks betray you, 
Altho' it is long since mid-day, you 
Seem just risen from your bed, 
Your eyes too starting from your head, 
You'll undermine your constitution 
And bring on early dissolution." 
Says Hal, " Lord what a fuss you make, 
Because a bottle I can take ;" 




ONE OF THE SOCIETY OF FRIENDS — MET TOGEIIIEK. 



REASONS FOR DRINKING. 97 

No, No, said Tom — " tis not the bottle, 

But 'tis what you pour down your throttle." 

Hal shrugged his shoulders — " Well," he cried, 

" I do drink, that can't be denied — 

But what I ask, am I the worse ? 

I drain a bottle" — "And your purse," 

Said Tom, " For all things there's a season. 

But you I fear drink without reason." 

" Nay, hold you there," cries Hal, " I vow 

Your reasoning I disallow : 

And I will straight give you a reason 

For every time, or place, or season. 

First then — no one can deny, 

'Tis right to drink when we are dry, 

'Tis one of Nature's rules — and yet, 

I always drink when I get wet ; 

In winter time, we're often told, 

Some people drink because they're cold ; 

In summer time, the downright sot 

Will drink all day because he's hot ; 

'Tis usual in any weather, 

For friends to drink when met together : 

H 



98 REASONS FOR DRINKING. 

And when the kindly tear is starting, 

How many take a cup at parting. 

When friends drop in, an hour to pass, 

Who'd be a niggard with his glass ? 

And if I go to see a friend, 

Did I not drink, I should offend ! 

When rolling in prosperity, 

We drink and sing right merrily : 

But when adversity draws near, 

We drink to chase the starting tear : 

When in our veins the youthful blood 

Rolls like an overwhelming flood, 

Our spirits running mountain high, 

We drain the sparkling goblet dry : 

But when the blood begins to cool y 

And we for life lay down a rule : 

As in review our actions pass, 

We sigh — and taste a sober glass." 

"Hold! hold! enough!" cried Tom, "I see 

My arguments will useless be, 

While you so well can make excuse, 

And wit, and logic too produce., 



REASONS FOR DRINKING. 



99 



Good bye ! one word before I go : 
I hope when you go clown below, 
You'll find Old Nick, that jolly fellow, 
Has taken care to stock his cellar." 




FRIE.VDS DROPPING IX FOR A DRIXKI.VG BOUT. 



l.rfC 



H 2 



100 



WASHING A BLACK MAN WHITE. 



Time out of mind it lias been deemed (in spite 

Of all the efforts of ingenious man) 
Impossible to wash a black man white, 

As incompatible with nature's plan. 

1 know it has been said " we live to learn", 

(Some folks can scarce learn how they are to live) 

Knowledge is strength ; and oft 'twill serve our turn, 
To give advice — when we've nought else to give. 

In early life poor Mungo came from where 
The fairest girls are those most jetty black; 

Where heads with wool are crowned, and not with hair ; 
Where clothes are deemed a burthen to the back. 



WASHING A BLACK MAN WHITE. 101 

Some years he passed on board a man-of-war, 
And then at Wapping wall he sat him down ; 

There he set up in trade — a bachelor— 
The merriest barber in all London town. 

Years rolled away, he led a merry life, 

Shaving and laughing on, he time beguiled ; 

Until one night — alas ! a tailor's wife, 
Oh, tale of horror ! missed her only child. 

The mother screamed, the neighbours searched each lane ; 

Each alley, court, and street did they explore, 
And the last tidings which they could obtain, 

Was, that it had been seen at Mungo's door. 

A week passed by, the child was never found, 

The parents mourned their loss as parents should ; 

When a strange rumour quickly spread around, 
Which almost curdled every hearer's blood. 

'Twas whispered that poor Mungo once was wild, 

A cannibal on Afric's burning waste ; 
And therefore rumoured that the luckless child 

Had fall'n a prey to his infernal taste. 



102 



WASHING A BLACK MAN WHITE. 



The sable sinner by the boys was hooted, 

The child was last seen standing by his door ; 

Mungo in vain their calumnies refuted, 

This damning proof he could not well get o'er. 

Kuin'd, undone, his business fled away, 
He soon found all his old resources fail ; 

And not possessing wherewithal to pay 

His rent, had lodgings found him in a gaol. 



Altho' for debt he in a prison lay, 

His jovial spirits were not yet all quite quashed ; 
He drank, and smoked, and laughed six weeks away, 

And then came out, a perfect black man white-washed! 




BI3ING WHITE-WASHED. 




GIVING UP THE GHOST, 



103 



GIVING UP THE GHOST. 



So at last I have caught you, my young master Hodge, 

And now in the Bridewell this night shall you lodge ; 

I'll teach you to frighten folks out of their wits, 

Boys, women, and dandies, and babes, into fits : 

Sir Richard will cause you to quiver and quake, 

And much better use of your turnips to make. 

What ! Ghost-Lanthorn scooping, you arch wicked wight, 

You'll find better scope for amusement to-night ; 

Your Ghost you shall swallow — your pale shrivelled cheek, 

Looks as tho' but one dinner you ate in a week ; 

To justice I'll bring you, and make it my boast, 

One sinner is made to give up his own Ghost ! 



104 



HYPOCHONDRIASIS. 



Hy-po-chon-dri-a-sis is one of those unaccountable 
words, that learned men put into the mouths of the people, 
without thinking whether they can ever get them out 
again ; a word not one in a hundred can pronounce, nor 
one in fifty understand, — in one word, it menaces a 
lock-jaw. 

There are two sorts of Hy-po-chon-dri-a-sis. One a 
sort of melancholy madness, principally the lot of gentle- 
men in love — I say gentlemen, because the ladies are 
deficient in the natural gravity and solemnity of disposition 
necessaiy to constitute a Hy-po-chon-dri-ac ; for when the 
modern Venus is in love, she thinks more of the Gretna 
Vulcan than sitting, like patience on a monument, smiling 



HYPOCHONDRIASIS. 105 

at grief, and letting " concealment like a worm V the 
bud, feed on her damask cheek." 

The other, and most comical sort of Hy-po-chon-dri-acs, 
are they who have a species of innate fear of the most 
harmless things in existence : some of these have a mx tal 
and murderous antipathy to dogs ; others will run across 
the street and " hide their diminished heads," to shun an 
itinerant vender of old clothes. And others, who would 
as soon commit suicide as go under a ladder or scaffold- 
ing : but these latter more properly come under the class 
of superstitious simpletons. 

I myself have a mortal aversion to — a Kite ! arising, 
I believe, from some pranks, when my wits were in their 
first stage, of one of those injudicious beings — a Nurse- 
maid — and which completely thrumbumbled my young 
ideas. To frighten me, a man-kite was placed at my 
bedfoot : and ever after, my midnight dreams and waking 
thoughts were of Kites ! 

Of the manner in which Hy-po-chon-dri-a-sis scatters 
one's ideas, the following is a specimen : — 

When between the age of five and six, and when my 
kite-mania had reached its height, I had an aunt, and 
certainly, both a great and good aunt: but nevertheless to 



106 HYPOCHONDRIASIS. 

her I took an antipathy. First of all, her name was — Kitelj 
— enough of itself to set my young heart in a flustration : 
hut added to this my said aunt's head was exceedingly 
small, and her two shoulders unusually "broad, and 
whether it was my heated imagination or not, I cannot 
say, hut I certainly thought her lower parts fast " dwind- 
ling to their shortest span," declining gradually from the 
shoulders to the heels : she wore unusually large " leg of 
mutton" sleeves, and also an immense Cashmere shawl — 
douhled diagonally, which, suspended from the aforesaid 
wide shoulders, gave to my aunt hehind, the exact image 
of a Kite ! But this unfolds only half my misery, for 
therehy hangs a tale : my aunt had eleven daughters — the 
eldest fourteen ; the rest gradually decreasing in height, 
until the little urchin of two years was almost lost in the 
distance. My aunt was a great lover of female decorum, 
and had a very unique taste — clothing all her daughters 
in one colour — white. My cousins, under the hands of the 
Drill Serjeant, were all taught to walk holt upright, and 
my aunt chose that they should walk in a straight line — 
gradually progressing upwards from one to eleven. Fancy, 
therefore, the torture in my morning walks of this Woman- 
Kite and her tail, winding along in their early airing! — 



HYPOCONDRIASIS. 



107 



The nursemaid I never forgave, as the cause of my 
dislike to one of the best of women ; one who would have 
taught me to soar, like Mr. Green the aeronaut, above the 
petty disturbances of this world, but for the fear of dis- 
gracing the line of my ancestry, by dying suspended from 
a string ! 




5^3^^ 



MRS. KITELY. 



108 



THE OLD MAIDS COMPLAINT. 



Alas ! alack ! and well a day, 
Folks cry when they complain, 

My days are ill, I well may say, 
They ne'er will come again. 

Its bitter tears repentance sheds, 

For lovers turned away ; 
And now they turn away their heads, 

And pass me ev'ry day. 

The passion John and William nursed, 

I treated with disdain ; 
They are avenged, I'm doubly cursed, 

Yet single must remain. 

I said that I was much too young, 

And Roger was too bold ; 
I wish I had cut out my tongue, 

I fear I'm now too old. 




iK^f* 



BROTHERLY RECOGNITION. 



THE OLD MAID'S COMPLAINT. 109 

Young Hal could once my blushes raise, 

And daily praise my charms ; 
Had I a charm to gain his praise, 

I'd quit these vain alarms. 

Although my name at seventeen 

I might have changed away, 
I fear I shall be ever-GREEN, 

I know I've long been grey. 

The duties of a wife I find, 

Some ladies hate 'tis true ; 
Ah ! would that I were so confined, 

And such ties were my due. 

They say we could not long survive, 

Deprived of sun and air ; 
Had I a son and heir alive, 

Why then I should not care. 

They tell me 'tis the old maid's fate 

To lead apes when below ; 
But men are monkies — though 'tis late. 

Might I not lead one now ' 



110 THE OLD MAID'S COMPLAINT. 

They say that some folks live in dread 
Of " Jack Ketch" and a halter; 

But were I to the altar led, 

He should not catch me falter. 

The victim of the prize ring dies, 
And wives are widows made ; 

A ring would make me what I prize, 
A wife and not old maid. 

Hal said my cheeks were like the rose, 
And that my eyes were blue, 

But now the red is in my nose, 
Ah me ! he knows 'tis true. 

'Tis said, " be pitied and be blest," 

With this I can't agree ; 
God knows the small-pox 1 detest, 

For that has pitted me. 

Like pearls my teeth were white and clear, 

That symbol is not lost ; 
To me than pearls they're now more dear, 

I know it to my cost. 



THE OLD MAID'S COMPLAINT. Ill 

To ruin all my charms are gone, 

My glass I look quite blue in ; 
I've one warm friend when most forlorn, 

And that is dear blue ruin. 

Ah ! once I thought sweet twenty-one 

I ne'er should live to see ; 
But now too swift the minutes run, 

I'm almost fifty three ! 

Then maidens all hear what I say, 

Both well mark and remark it ; 
When you are young, and fair, and gay. 

Don't overstand your Market. 




A HAPPY COUPLE AT THE ALTAR. 



112 



A POT BOY 

In his vocation is no unimportant personage in this vast 
metropolis, from his calling, and being so much called for 
in all societies, rich and poor, public and private. He is 
influenced by his trade — sometimes carrying good qualities, 
and at other times bad. He possesses many good traits, for 
his trays are the medium of his business. His time is 
spent in reconciling differences, " a tally" being his most 
pleasant employment, and in this department he beats all 
other trades " by chalks." He is a lover of order, and yet 
most cruelly puts all his pots on the rack. He frequently 
brings cordials to the afflicted ; but sometimes his pre- 
sence is not so agreeable, that is — when he brings 
" bitters." He is a sort of " half and half" gentleman, 
a jack of all trades, engaged in many and professing 
none ; he may be called a pleader, from his extensive bar 
practice ; a conveyancer, for he draws and sometimes 




COME, TIP VELL, STOP A BIT. 



A POT BOY. 



113 



settles the draught ; a musician, from his pipes ; a potter, 
from his pots ; a porter, from what he carries ; an exe- 
cutioner, for he is seen to knock off frothy heads with one 
blow. And last of all, an undertaker from his fo'er-trade. 

But like all who attempt more than they can manage, 
he is a hungler in all his trades, for whatever he takes in 
hand he sends to pot. 




«J^s^* 



DECAPITATION. 



114 



ANAGRAMS, 



WORDS REVOLUTIONIZED. 



How strange it is to play on words, 
And turn them upside down; 

First in and out, then round about, 

Like music in a change of chords ; 
'Till they by changes grown, 

Are without doubt, revers'd throughout. 

In proof now let this anagram, 

Elucidate my point : 
Good people all, at " Funeral," 
Their griefs and groans aloud proclaim ; 

The dismal word disjoint, 
And real fun shall — reverse it all. 




THE NATIONAL GUARD. 



ANAGRAMS. 115 

Again — another word is there, 

(Which somewhat borders on the last) 

Suppose deep " Mourning" — just returning 

Back from the grave, without a tear, 
Then O grim nun ! thou hast, 

Thine eye discerning her heart's yearning. 

Or fancy that through Golden Land, 

Your footsteps you're pursuing ; 
" Old England" there, thy sight will cheer, 
The Rock that makes its solid stand 

'Gainst " Revolution" !— To love ruin 
Will thus appear, that word of fear. 

Poor France, so fam'd for " Gallantries," 

The source of all great sin ; 
Thy " Punishment, " to thine heart went ! 
Harsh Word, wherein prophetic lies 

Nine thumps, as though 'twere cat o'nine 
Tails,- furies sent — to give them vent. 

Thy spirit, " Democratical, " 

To other lands has fled ; 
Its level finds, in lowest minds, 
i2 



116 ANAGRAMS. 

O'er Flanders now — a comical 

Trade — its terror wide has spread, 
Borne on the winds, by fonlest fiends. 

A time there was, when Britain sought 

A " Radical reform," 
Then, Peterloo was all the go ; 
Her sons the rare mad frolic caught, 

For revolution warm ; 
But, Hunt & Co., that would not do ! 

Like " Telegraphs," when prompt in action, 
Are magistrates quick sighted ; 

Great Helps were they — that fatal day : 

They check'd the raging faction, 
And its fell spirit blighted, 

Resolved to stay the bloody fray. 



Ten Anagrams, on subjects grave, 

Do here 

Appear, 
Brought under brief inspection : 
Now, to one more your ear I crave, 



ANAGRAMS. 117 



Tis " Live ! " 
I give 
To anatomical dissection. 



Not of grave but lively sound : 
Invert, convert it as you will. 
It appertains to evil still, — 

A lie in it will sure be found, 

Whene'er the word is broken ; 
Yet to the ear what is more vile, 
What more the senses can beguile, 

Than if the truth be spoken, 

Under a veil of flimsy texture ; 

Which makes the lie, 

At once, to vie, 
As sinister with dexter. 

The race of Led ran a race, 

Of lie and vile deceit ; 
Lost to all grace, revilings base 

Became their cursed fate. 



118 ANAGRAMS. 

Thus "Live!" 

(I grieve 
To say,) dispose it as you will, 
Has natural tendency to ill ; 
Reverse it quite, it evil is, 
Divide it, then the half is this — 

" Ev" the first moiety, " tf," the last ; 
Cause and effect you here contrast, 
Corrupted each, yet each reveal 
Eve, origin of ev'ry ill, 

Past, present, future; e'en to die, 
Curs' d lot of all humanity ; 
For live, when preterperfect, evil 
Becomes, transform'd, a Devil ! 

Ill fated mould, wherein our fate is cast, 
At first, to live ; to lie in mould, at last. 




POACHING ON FORBIDDEN PRESERVES. 



119 



DEFINITE AND INDEFINITE ARTICLES. 



SKETCH FROM A KITCHEN DRAWER. 



Three aprons, two dusters, the face of a pig, 

A dirty jack towel, a dishclout and wig ; 

A foot of a stocking, three caps and a frill, 

A busk and six buttons, mouse trap and a quill ; 

A comb and a thimble, with Madona bands, 

A box of specifics for chaps in the hands, 

With some mace and some cloves tied up in a rag, 

An empty thread-paper, and blue in a bag. 

Short pieces of ribbon, both greasy and black, 

A grater and nutmeg, the key of the jack ; 

An inch of wax candle, a steel and a flint, 

A bundle of- matches, a parcel of mint. 

A lump of old suet, a crimp for the paste, " 

A pair of red garters, a belt for the waist ; 

A rusty bent skewer, a broken brass cock, 

Some onions and tinder, and the draw'r lock. 



120 DEFINITE AND INDEFINITE ARTICLES. 

A bag for the pudding, a whetstone and string, 

A penny cross-bun, and a new curtain ring ; 

A print for the butter, a ragged chemise, 

Two pieces of soap, and a thick slice of cheese. 

Five tea-spoons of tin, a large lump of resin, 

The feet of a hare, and corks by the dozen. 

" The whole duty of man," with some salve for the itch, 

And a printed account of the " Burning a witch." 

A card to tell fortunes, a sponge and a can, 

A pen without ink, and a small patty-pan ; 

A rolling-pin pasted, and " Common Pray'r Book," 

Are things which I found in the drawer of the Cook. 

P- S. — One last redeeming thing the Drawer had in't, 
"List, list, O list" this list was there in print ! 




A FOUL DRAWER. 



121 



THE 

LAMENTATION OF OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 



What strange events and changes have I seen 
Of Men and Manners : — faces too, and things, 

Since I across the Thames a bridge have been. 
I have beheld in my time many Kings : 

Near me, too, have I seen a forest green, 
Whose only trace is, what the poet sings ; — 

Where once the natives used to hunt the boar, 

And hungry wolves were also deemed a bore. 

But now, good Lord ! — how changed do things appear, 
To chimney pots are turned the lofty trees ; 

No more wild beasts are howling in mine ear, 
But swearing men disturb my reveries ; 

Their ribald jesting daily do I hear 

In shouts of laughter floating on the breeze, 



122 THE LAMENTATION OF OLD LONDON BRIPG-E. 

From out trie windows of trie neighboring alehouse, 
Where groups sit looking like — Death on the Pale-horse. 

Tis now almost a thousand years ago 

Since I first stretch' d my arches o'er the river : 

And tho' it must be own'd I'm getting low 
In estimation — scarcely worth a stiver, — 

Disasters I have met with, which, I know 

Would have made many a frailer fabric quiver, 

And quake with fear — perhaps give up the Ghost ; 

But I have too much modesty to boast. 

I was not always such as now you see, 

Chapels and Towers once adorned my prime ; 

Processions, and gay feats of chivalry : 
And Nonesuch House, — the pride of olden time ; 

None such you'd find within some miles of me. 
Oh ! those were happy days : the greatest crime 

A man could then commit, was — to be sad, 

When ev'ry heart was warm, and free, and glad. 

How often on a lovely summer's night 

When all was hushed, except the shouts of mirth, 
Have I beheld Prince Hal's most valiant Knight 

Sir John FalstarT— that monstrous lump of earth, 




BREAKING DOWN THE BRIDGE OF AN ENEMY. 



THE LAMENTATION OF OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 123 

Trudge reeling on. He was a merry wight, 
And loved sack-posset even from his birth. 
Hard by, he often drank all night, 'tis said, 
In Eastcheap, at the well-known Old Boar's Head. 

Oh ! I have gazed on feats of archery 
When English Yeomen shot the long cloth yard ; 

Swift thro' the air the feathered bolt would fly, 
And nought its rapid progress could retard : 

But now each arch I have is quite awry ; 
In vain I gaze aloft — 'tis monstrous hard ; 

For where I used to see the swift winged arrow . 

I only spy a crow, perchance a sparrow. 

But since those Halcyon days, I've suffered much ; 

I've nearly been destroyed by fire or flood, 
Six times ; the plague has given me a touch : 

My streets and walls have been besmeared with blood. 
And if you doubt me, history can vouch 

The truth of what I say. Yet have I stood 
My ground against th' accumulating evils, 
Although they plagued me like ten thousand devils. 

Perhaps you'll say that it is a bad trait, or 

Something worse, because I've borne the head 



124 THE LAMENTATION OF OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 

Of many a brave man upon my gate, or 
Turret top — when he could not eat no bread : 

For in those days, if once they caught a traitor, 
They did'nt bury him when he was dead. 

Witness Earl Desmond, Bolingbroke, and Wallace; 

I'm glad they've now abolished all such follies. 

But now my back is broken in two places, 
My wooden piers are rotten — what of that ; 

Time every day my shattered form defaces, 
And I, alas! am getting quite a flat; 

I am propped up, and very hard my case is; 
Of sterling value, too, I dare not chat. 

Yet why should I shrink thus in sad confusion, 

Is mine the only rotten constitution ? 

t 

Surely I am not yet become so hideous, 

As that bridge which most people call the devil's ; 

It can't be said that I am as insidious 

As the arch-fiend, and sovereign prince of evils ; 

I spurn the charge as cruel and invidious, 
The hellish fiend alone in horror revels ; 

Yet some poor devils have I robb'd of breath, 

And thoughtlessly consigned to sudden death. 




A GENERAL PANIC, AND RUN UPON TIIF. BANKS. 



THE LAMENTATION OF OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 125 

My enemies allege, too, that I swear, 

And daily dam-n the river, up and down ; 

God knows that swearing I could never bear ! 
Altho' they say that I am cold as stone, 

Tis nothing but the heart of oak I wear, 
Sustains the weight I've borne so long alone. 

But I have lately seen the river dammed, 

Two-thirds across — and then with stones well crammed . 

A rival, too, has sprung up by my side, 
And stares me out of countenance. I know 

I long have stood the brunt of time and tide, 
And now must soon expect the final blow, 

Which I may call the death blow of my pride ; 
Yet when I'm gone, both time and tide will flow 

As now they do : — and tho' fate onward stalks, 

My gaudy rival I can beat by chalks. 

Ah, once indeed old father Thames's banks, 

Supported me in my extremities, 
And gladly I repaid him with my thanks ; 

On him no sudden panic dared to seize. 
Now Jolliffe's partner, one Sir Edward Banks, 

My fast approaching ruin gladly sees, 



126 THE LAMENTATION OF OLD LONDON BRIDGE. 

And like a vampire daily near me lingers : 

I hope cold stones will some day burn his fingers. 

Some bridges now, like thieves, are hung in chains ; 

Suspension bridges keep me in suspense ; 
1 dream of smiths and hammers, for the pains 

Of Hammer-smith bridge, must have been immense ! 
But for myself, I know that my poor brains, 

Could never bear a heat half so intense. 
And I shall soon lie low beneath the feet 
Of thousands — when I pave some dirty street. 




A SUSPENSION BRIDGE — ACROSS THE STYX. 




r -<?\ 






THE DRAMA. 



127 



TRAGIC REMINISCENCES. 



My father was a slaughterman thriving in a small 
country village, for, although a religious place, the 
inhabitants concurred in patronizing his propensity for 
butchering. To this fact do I ascribe the tragical 
turn of my thoughts, although it was said I imbibed 
it with my mother's milk, for she, like a good help- 
mate, helped her husband in his cruel trade : be that 
as it may, I certainly had a most sanguinary' turn 
of mind ; a fight would excite my admiration most 
imsoph ideally, and when very young, I could recite, 
and with glee, the whole of the part of Hotspur, who, 

" Killed some six or seven dozen at a breakfast," 

and that with all the emphasis and twang attached by 
school-boys to the productions of " our immort/e bard." 
In due time I was installed into my father's business, 
and became quite as cruel as my progenitors ; but still 



128 TRAGIC REMINISCENCES. 

retaining my dramatic propensities, I was at the head 
of a corps of privateers, who, like myself, did justice to 
their profession by murdering all within their reach. 

My first appearance in public being at the time of an 
election, I expected to make a hit, but had not been on 
the stage many minutes, when I was assailed with a 
volley of missiles, rotten eggs, oranges, &c, which made 
more hits than I liked : I was therefore obliged to make 
a speedy exit, so much did they make their eggs-hit. 
This so put me out of countenance (my face bearing 
palpable marks both of hard and soft usage) that I deter- 
mined to make myself scarce, and did not forget to make 
my father's money scarce also, the possession of which 
so elevated my spirits, (God knows I ought to have 
been elevated elsewhere), that I never thought of the 
future, but made my way to the first strolling company ; 
where by dint of a few presents to the understrappers, 
I soon got a character for wealth (though I lost my 
character in getting it) among these poor actors, — 
poor in every sense of the word. My next public 
appearance was under better auspices, and I came 
off with eclat, although some of my companions 
thought it was only so-so : but I told them I expected to 
reap advantage from spending my time in their company. 



TRAGIC REMINISCENCES. 129 

I will pass over my minus transactions in the country, 
and minor theatrical exploits in town, to the time 
when, thinking myself at the top of the tree, I wished 
to gather some of the fruit of my labour. I was en- 
gaged at Drur y Lane Theatre at a good salary ; and 
lived like a prince, until my vanity led me to think I 
could take up first rate parts, and bring down such 
torrents of applause as were nightly showered on the 
reigning favourites. The night came, and I entered 
as Richard III. in all my kingly state, panting for 
applause, the audience for their Christmas pantomime, 
nor did they wish my tragic thoughts to interrupt 
their merry ones : added to which my bad qualities, 
hitherto in the back ground, appeared more forcibly, 
when rubbed up to suit my present advancement 
on the stage of life. In fact, both actor and audience 
were quite characteristic of the character I represented, 
and I was, (to use a Thespian term) damned! 

The dress and upper circles I could have boxed in the 
best Tom Spring style ; the pit I wished a hundred 
times in the bottomless one, and the gods above so put 
my gall awry, that I made a foolish speech, forfeited 
my engagement, and went adrift like a stray boat, 
without a name, a prey to the first bum (or water) 
bailiff — for I had not forgotten to run in debt. — for 



130 TRAGIC REMINISCENCES. 

which in the long run I was indebted to my short 
run of prosperity. I applied in vain at the minors; 
and after being shifted from one scene of misery to 
another, I was at length appointed scene-shifter in 
Clark's Theatricals; but one night making shift to 
intrude a wood scene into a parlour, I was dismissed 
and left to shift for myself. 

I now began to have serious thoughts of returning, 
like the prodigal son, to my father, but, finding he was 
a bankrupt, I disliked the idea of being called to 
account for the money I had so unaccountably ab- 
stracted. I was at length obliged to enter upon a 
new scene, and act the part of candle-snvffer at a 
country playhouse, where in despite of slanderers and 
backbiters, I hope to remain in that performance, till 
death puts his extinguisher on my vital spark. 




A BACKBITEtt. 




-^-^^oc? 



scf^ 



A DETACHMENT. 



131 



WARS ALARMS. 

*Nor young Attornies have the rage withstood, 
But changed their Pens for muskets — Ink for blood, 
And (strange reverse) will die for Britain's good." 



Time speeds ! it may be thirty years, 
Since Englishmen turned volunteers 
In ev'ry county— ev'ry city, 
To stop the march of French banditti, 
Who did to Gallia's shores repair, 
As mad as any young March hare : 
With threat to force a passage over, 
And taste of English fare at Dover : 
Tho' sharp the threat, yet slow the motion. 
With their flat-bottoms, 'cross the ocean ; 
The British fair all in a bustle, 
Averse with foreign arms to tussle, 
Turn'd their behind upon the foe, 
And took to light fantastic toe. 
k2 



132 war's alarms. 

Not so their lords (of the creation 
Lords) volunteers to guard the nation ; 
To arms they took, (not to their heel) 
To put their bayonets of steel 
In Gallia's heart — their heels upon her 
Flimsy flat-bottom'd seat of honor. 

And now to our heroic tale : 

'Twas at that ancient city L — , 

All loyal, brave, and independent, 

As in her civic pomp resplendent ; — 

Her volunteers by B. be-headed, 

A colonel whom the foe ne'er dreaded, 

(They saw but little — to be brief, 

Of their commander, as their Chief, 

The foe, still less of his external, 

Knew nothing therefore of the Kernel) 

Were, just about the period stated, 

From local circumstance, ill-fated 

To hear the drum — that warlike token, 

And have their midnight slumbers broken ; 

The time was late — the scene the "course.;* 

Then race of riot — late of horse, 

A ??ioo?ilight scene of madmen's fury ; 

But, gentle reader, hear my story. 



war's alarms. 133 

Hark ! hark ! the sound of war's alarms, 
See bravest soldiers fall to arms ! 
From bed our volunteers arise, 
Each shaking slumber from his eyes, 
Puts on his clothes, and takes his gun ; 
Their wives run forth to see the fun ; 
The " Minster Green" the ground of muster, 
Soon here and there presents a cluster. 
Below the u hill" a part assemble, 
While others on their pillows tremble ; 
More faithful to the nuptial bed, 
With sheets and blankets over head ; 
First, hug their wives with tight embrace, 
Then pray to heaven to grant them grace. 

The Colonel from the festive board, 
Now staggers forth, without his sword : 
Who all the warmth of zeal displays, 
To suffocate the spreading blaze. 
This gallant Colonel of the Corps, 
Who never went to war before : 
Tho' but " half cock'd" to meet the foe, 
Now hoped for one decisive blow ; 
Called for his horse, but call'd in vain, 
And could not even find his men ! 



134 war's alarms, 

Forsaken by his able force, 

Whom zeal had hastened to the " course ;" 

The commandant was losing ground, 

When on such warlike duty bound ; 

Half mad, and half intoxicated, 

With courage high, and crest elated. 

The Captain of the Horse, he begs 

To take him up, to save his legs ; 

The Captain of the Horse declined 

To lift the Colonel up behind : 

Yet one less fearful of the trouble, 

Declared his horse would carry double. 

And hoped the Colonel would not fail 

To hold on by the horse's tail. 

Contented in this way to ride, 

The military chief complied : 

No sooner had he gained a seat, 

Than in the air the charger's feet 

With very rapid motion rose, 

And pitch'd the Colonel on his nose : 

But having now resumed his place, 

With ardour glowing in his face, 

" Go on " he cries, " with speed pursue 

The lawless gang, the bloody crew, 



WAR'S ALARMS. 



135 



" And let them all be pris'ners taken, 
Let none, if guilty, be forsaken." 
The Colonel, thus, unto the course 
Proceeded upon double horse : 
But 'ere he reached the place of riot, 
The parties in the cause were quiet. 




3Sj . _ - mS 
A DIS-CHARGER. 



136 



THE SUTTEE. 

' Oh who can tell how hard it is to climb 
The steep ascent — " 



Beattie. 



My heart was oft disposed to melt ; — 
And for those little urchins felt, 

Who pass their days 
In climbing up the steep ascent, 
Which Beattie says is hard : he meant, 
No doubt, to praise 
Their steep ascending cap-abilities ; 
But I suspect that much of tears and weeping 
Attends the study of Black Arts — so sweeping, 
Ere thro' the chimney pots their caps are peeping, 
Howe'er ascending may be their abilities. 




THE BLACK ARTS. 



THE SUTTEE. 137 

Indeed, I always thought it was a stigma 

Upon our very Philanthropic Nation, 
That no one could unravel the enigma, 

Which would absolve us from this degradation ; 
Converting little English hearts of oak 

Into black dwarfs, and soot-ties of the East ; 
When some soot-able means would break the yoke, 

If able to sweep out the soot ; at least, 
Twould be the means by which it might be broke. 

Our kitchen chimney very often smoked, 

And made a smother, 
Smoth'ring the maid ; my wife was much provoked, 
And made a bother, 
Saying it never was half swept ; and that 
The little sweep, no larger than a sprat, 
Kept growing smaller every time he came. 
For that, I said, the boy was not to blame ; 
If thus to argue 'gainst the sweep, she meant, 
It really was a sweeping argument. 
This passed off with a smile, 

And when the smile had passed, 
I thought a little while, . 
Until I hit at last 



138 THE SUTTEE. 

On a plan ; 
Which I resolved to put in execution : 
Also to execute my resolution 

Like a man, 
And save the little boys from further persecution. 

One morning early, I awoke, 
Just as the dapple dawn bespoke 
The dawn of dapper day : — 
And gently I raised up my head, 
As gently then slid out of bed, 
A sweeping part to play. 
My blunderbuss I loaded for the work, 
And crept down stairs quite softly ; all was dark 
As pitch, in 
The kitchen. 
Then to the fire-place having found my way, 

Rested my fire-arms upright on the grate, 
And pulled the trigger. What was* my dismay, 

To hear it followed by a crash, so great, 
I thought I'd blundered with my blunderbuss, 
And by mistake had fired through the window, 
Reducing all the panes of glass, to tinder ; 
Perhaps 'twas lucky if it was no worse. 



THE SUTTEE 139 

A moment's reflection 
Brought to my recollection, 
That my next neighbour, had a kind of closet 

Built close against the chimney of my kitchen ; it 
Was where he used his china to deposit, 

And I had dished each cup and plate and dish in it. 
Luckily for me, he laid the blame, 

(When he saw how his china cups had flown up.) 
On other shoulders : I heard him exclaim — 

" The Powder Mills at Hounslow have been blown up. r 
I stole up stairs, but little did I dream 

My wife was then awake, and mischief brewing : 
As I drew near, she gave a fearful scream, 

Then cried, " My God! why what have youbcen doing?' 1 
I happened to pass, 
The toilette glass, 
And turning my head on one side for a minute. 
Started, to see the form reflected in it : 
I was indeed from head to foot 
A monstrous moving mass of soot : 
In short, a full sized grown up Suttee, 
No chimney sweep could be more smutty 
Like a Hindoo, I thrice performed ablution, 
But not so soon did I get ab-so-lution ; 



140 



THE SUTTEE. 



My wife at home reigned ab-solute ; 

And as my sable deeds of soot, 
Required a suit-able amende (excuse tautology), 
I was obliged to make a soot-able apology. 




THE BLACK DWARF. 



141 



TO 

A CHAMBER CANDLESTICK. 

Q ^fragment. 

— " The Hamlet is still"— 



To bed, or not to bed ? — that is the question : 

Whether by silvery moon, or shining lamp, 

Or mould, or wax, or by umbrageous rush, 

And with the one or other make our stand ; 

To bed ! and by a sleep to say we lull 

The headache, and such other natural paiii^ 

As Life is prone to. 'Tis a visitation 

At midnight to be wished: so then, to bed ; ■ 

If by the broad, yet borrowed silv'ry light 

Of yon pale moon, we have no need to snvff-hers ; 

If by the smaller light of modest oil, 

No need should we have to pxtinyuish-HER ; 



142 



TO A CHAMBER CANDLESTICK. 



To sleep! and then to wake ! Aye, there's the rub, 
When we have shuffled off our midnight cap 
To give us ease — there's the relief, 
From the cap-tivity of a long night ! 
Now, thro' the half-closed shutter, dart 
The golden beams of Sol, the silver moon 
And shining lamp eclipsed ; the wick of oil, 
Or rush, or wax, or tallow candle, now 
Hide to the day-light their diminished heads, 
And nothing but a bare stick leave behind. 




BARE POLLS. 




HYDROPHOBIA. 



143 



ON DOG DAYS. 



From the commencement of July, to the middle of 
August, our good people of England are in a complete 
state of fear, ferment, and fomentation. Hydrophobia ! 
Bile-stirring word ! thou shouldst be classed among the 
very patron saints of cruelty, oppression, and dog-mati- 
calness. Alas ! what inhuman murders are committed 
under thy auspices, upon the unmuzzled unfortunates, 
who, happening to cross a street with their tails crossed 
between their legs, or with a cast in their eye, and 
looking cross, are no sooner espied than cast in a die, 
and by poison, pistol, or pitchfork, murdered, or starved 
without meet and proper grace. The mad dog mania is 
a sort of epidemic, which periodically oc-curs in the 
months, when of all others the good people go dog-gedly 
to work ; and when, their thirst being excited, they are 
the more blood-thirst}'. 



144 ON DOG DAYS. 

The name of a mad dog is enough to start any judge 
from the bench, or jurymen from their box, without 
trying the cause ; even the apple women run from their 
stalls, and, like the heathen goddess, Ceres, scatter the 
fruits of the earth. If a constable wishes to clear a 
street of a crowd, he has but to utter the mad dog cry, 
and it operates like a fever mixture — raises a com- 
motion, and sets all the people running like chaff before 
the wind. 

Many of the canine victims to Mansion-house tyranny 
having declared in their dying moments, that the irritation 
of their minds proceeded partly from the docking of their 
tails, and their privileges by the New Polic-y, a sub- 
scription was entered into for supplying the dear creatures 
with cigars, as being the first privilege of puppy-ism. 
It was also advised to prevent the runaways from going 
abroad, to clap them in the Fleet prison ; but a worthy 
alderman remembered that, in a recent case, the clerk 
of the court would not discharge a prisoner without 
first paying his fees, and in that case, the measure 
proposed would cause a burthen on the corporation, 
parts of which were already too heavy to bear them- 
selves. 

The dog days, however, like all other things, have 



ON DOG DAYS. 145 

changed, and more fortunately for the cause of humanity, 
and the peace of mind of both dogs and men, the dog 
days of 1830 would have been more appropriately called 
the cat and dog days, for, with all due submission to the 
reign of St. Swithin, we have been literally pelted with 
cats, dogs, and pitchforks ; even the legislature itself adds 
to our misfortunes, for, now the New Beer Act is in 
full force, we are (forcibly speaking) act-ually inundated 
with heavy wet. 

In former times the good cits might be caught tripping 
in their Sunday trips, to Richmond, Hornsey, and the 
other cockney paradises ; nay, could even now and then 
indulge in a little Eel-piety ; but now, alas ! lasses, lads, 
and other ducks get most unmercifully ducked ; Rich- 
mond is but a poor retreat, Hornsey a sea of mud: house- 
maids are made to stay at home, cooks dare not stir out 
for fear of drippings, muzzles are changed for mizzles ; 
in short, as some say, the world is turned upside down, 
some unseen sea has overflown and flown over our heads, 
thus making the whole of our cloudy nation, so 'nation 
cloudy. 



146 






THE ODD SHELTER. 



By the reign of St. S within it pours, 
Cats and dogs my pathway beset ; 

I could fancy it was by the pow'rs, 
St. Swi thin's delight, heavy wet ! 

It's a very odd shelter I'll get, 

Faith and troth I'll be wet by the pores , 
For the clouds are beginning to let 

Out biggest of beautiful showers. 

That I am my father's own lad, 

I feel every day I get older ; 
An odd man in his way was my dad, 

You see I'm his son by my shoulder ! 




TIJL ODD ill! J/l in. 



147 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 




<• Is Miss Dinah at home ?"— " Yes, Sir, but she petickly ingaged 
in washing de dishes." — " Ah ! I am sorry I can't hab de honour to 
pay my devours to her — give her my card." 



l2 



148 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 



I entered a four-horse stage at the Bank, to dine 
with an old friend at Muswell-Hill. Two gentlemen, 
one with a thin pale visage and slender figure, the other 
a rosy-cheek Bacchus, were my fellow passengers. At 
Islington we took up a fourth, whose amiable good-natured 
face evinced a heart at peace with itself and the whole 
world. " Ah ! Mr. Tomson," says Bacchus, " what has 
drawn you from your rural cot to the city ? " " Why," 
replied the former, " nothing less than the abolition 
of the Slave Trade ; I have this day smoothed the 
only wrinkle in my pillow, by signing a petition to 
the Commons, to abolish the diabolical traffic in human 
beings, making them, like brute beasts, the objects of 
bargain and sale." " Lord bless you ! " says Bacchus, 
" these here negroes knows nothing about liberty or 
slavery! for a glass of real Jamaica they would sell 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 149 

themselves!" " Oh! " rejoined Mr. Tomson, my amiable 
friend, for by this time my heart claimed him by that appel- 
lation, " only think how dreadful it is for a husband and 
father to be severed from his wife and children and sold to 
strangers ; all of them dispersed into foreign countries ; 
all ties of relationship broken, and each, deprived of 
precious liberty, become like cattle, the property of a 
master." " Liberty," ejaculated Bacchus, " is truly a 
favorite topic of mine, and I would die in the cause. I 
have kept a coffee-house, on Cornhill, for these fifty 
years ; have been for half a century my own master ; 
could go and come, and do what I please, and yet, 
during that long period, have not exceeded one mile from 
the Bank ; nor should I now, had not my best customer, 
Mr. Jenkins of Mus well-Hill, pressed me into this trip 
to taste his old rack punch." The thin gentleman re- 
marked, that he also had been an enthusiast in the cause of 
liberty, had sought her in every clime, and once on the 
wild plains of Mexico, had caught a glimpse of her blue 
mantle ; but when on the point of embracing the blue- 
eyed maid, had received a volley from a file of citizens, 
hid in ambuscade to arrest his progress. " Liberty," 
said he, " dwells only in the mind, regulated by a just 
observance of the laws and circumstances that surround 



150 LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 

it. — Liberty, gentlemen, may be as generally found with 
the Negroes in the plantations of our West India colo- 
nies, as amongst ourselves. Slavery may enchain the 
body, but cannot control the mind. Look in our parks, 
and behold the splendid equipages ; pass to our balls, 
routs, and concerts, and you will find more absolute 
slavery than is known or felt amongst the negroes. Let 
a man, by a sudden turn of fortune, acquire a few thou- 
sand pounds ; he will instantly load himself with the 
fetters of carriage, horses, and servants. Human nature 
is everywhere the same. I once manumitted fourteen 
slaves of both sexes, and sent them to New York, each 
with a sufficient fund for an outfit ; and I was curious 
to know, after the lapse of a few years, the result of my 
experiment. 

"My first enquiry was after my fair favourite, Dinah, a 
girl who, having regained her freedom, possessed such a 
humble cast of spirit that she still felt the cellar to be 
her appropriate station, and therefore had no thought of 
aspiring above it, until excited by the more soaring mind 
of Sancho, who had been my own personal domestic, and 
therefore ventured to ape his master in the upper story. 
Mr. Sancho had acquired a love for the Bell Letters, 
and had long been in, correspondence with Miss Dinah. 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 



151 




' Hab you a few quires of letter-paper, of the very best 
rate, for a gemman to write hi 6 -letters on ? ' 

* Yes ; how many will you have ? ' 

' 1 spose my stay at de spring may be boat two or tree 
week; give me nough quire to write four letter !! ' 

" I found Mr. Sancho, for the first time, with the 
habit of a gentleman, paying his personal suit to Miss 
Dinah. He had contrived to instil drops of vanity into 
her heart, having first loaded her empty head with 
lumps of self-conceit. She was, as might be naturally 
expected, shewing off, with a huge hat and feathers 
in gaudiest trim. Little did Sancho dream that his 
flattery would produce in her such speedy symptoms 
of gay flirtation. Another Romeo now urged his claim 



152 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 



to the honour of gallanting her to the battery, and to 
this fair Juliet may be traced one of the much talked 
of ' rejected addresses.' Sancho, Dinah, and Romeo 
were alike distinguished by the predominant colours, 
as well as preposterous cut, of their dresses, viz.— 

Sancho. — Cravat, blue; waistcoat, pink ; coat, black; 
hat, white ; inexpressibles, yellow. 

Dinah. — Feather, pink; hat, yellow; dress, red; 
trimmings, yellow. 

Romeo. — Hat, black; cravat, pink; coat, sky-blue; 
pantaloons, yellow, black stripes ; eye-glass ribbon, pink. 

" Sancho was in the act of addressing Dinah thus : — 




4 Shall I hah de honour of glanting you to de battery, 
this afternoon, Miss Dinah ? hope you'll squeze de brupt 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 



153 



inbitation, as' — to which the fair Dinah, interrupting 
him, replied : — 

* 0, you already sqwzed, Mr. Sancho, only I made 
a privyous gagement to Mr. Romio,' — but Romeo, tor- 
tured by long suspense and suffering, with hope and 
fear alternate, now interposed — ' Hope you not going 
to break your gagement to me. I hah been standing 
here for tree hours.' 

" I afterwards met with Caesar, a mercurial sharp boy ; 
he was in company with Florinda, a Negress, both also 
arrayed in all the fashionable finery of the haut ton. 




Says Caesar, ' How you like de new fashion shirt, Miss 
Florinda?' — Florinda, with an air which would have 
graced the highest circles, replied, 'I tink dey mighty 



154 LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 

elegum — I see you on New-year-day, when you carry 
de colour in de Abolition Siety — you look jist like Pluto, 
de God of War!' 

" This mimic scene could only be equalled by an oc- 
currence which took place at the Colosseum yesterday, 
where, standing by a fat frowsy woman who was gazing 
at the panoramic view of London, covered with a huge 
bonnet and ribbands of all colours, named and un-named 
by Newton, and sweating under a load of ebon curls, I 
heard her say to her daughter, who had a face resembling 
a bull dog, ■ Clara, my dear, do you see your father's 
properties ? ' ' Oh ! yes,' replied Clara, ' and Fleet 
Ditch, and Mutton Hill, and Sal Saunders sifting dust.' 
' Do, Bobby, my darling,' growled the mother, c run 
down and call the carriage, for these here people smells 
so strong of musk and lavender, that I am faint for 
want of a drop of something. It is always the case with 
me, when I gets amongst the wulgur classes.' I say, Sir, 
that neither Caesar, Florinda, nor Mrs. Muck the dustman's 
wife, were in their proper sphere. The former were useful 
beings on the plantations — the latter on the dust-hill. 
But to proceed : — Having left Caesar and Miss Florinda, 
my attention was caught by a rencontre between a thick- 
headed thick-lipped black, and a printer's devil, crying — 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA, 



155 



' Hurrah ! hurrah for General Jackson ! ! ■ 
" The adult Negro, with a shilela began to beat Mer- 
cury's footman, with the following remonstrance : * What 
de debit you hurrah for General Jackson for ? you black 
nigger ! I larn you better. I'm a ministration man ! ! ' 




"Is this, said I to myself, the use or abuse of liberty ? 
and pondering on the ridiculousness of my attempt to 
make human beings happy, I could not avoid bringing 
before my view some of those exhilarating productions, 
which the chiefs of every age have employed to 
animate their annies. ' One struggle more,' says one 
General, ' and you will give to unborn generations that 
freedom you enjoy. Be patient — be obedient ; pass but 
yon chain of mountains, and the splendour of your arms 



156 LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 

will ensure to you victory.' The army was patient and 
obedient, the mountains were passed, the victory was 
won, but the conquerors were left to perish in the 
desert. 

" Having a call to make upon General Johnstone, who 
held the office of a Police Magistrate, I was introduced 
to him on the bench, where I found him engaged in 
deciding between three others of my manumitted negroes, 
who had committed themselves in a love affair ; and I 
cannot better describe the matter, than give a copy of the 
notes taken on the occasion by the gallant general and 
learned judge, whose private occupation was that of a 
blacksmith. 




' My name is Antonio Ceasa de Wilson. I kab been 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 157 

paying a visit to Miss Araminta Arabella Tomson, in de 
oyster cellar, where she live ; when Massa Sambo come 
in and say, ' You hab no business here.' So I look at 
Miss Minta, and she say I hab, and this gentleman and 
me hab a tussle. The handkerchief is not his, but one 
Miss Minta made present of to me.' 

1 I can assure you,' exclaims the sooty rival, ' that 
Miss Araminta did give me de witching glance, which 
told me as plain as eye could speak, that I was de more 
welcome visiter ; and as to de handkerchief, it is Miss 
Minta's ; and I have a better right to it than that other 
gentleman, as I have presented to her a scissar, a timble, 
and a lock of my hair.' 

" This mock farce proved a perfect antidote to all 
my speculations of giving liberty to a slave : or, in 
other words, a pearl to a swine, — a bust, by Canova, 
to a Goth, — an inkstand and a snowy sheet of paper 
to a monkey, — a sharp-edged tool to a baby. Cursing my 
folly in having made fourteen individuals comparatively 
Avretched, I left the office, determined, in my own 
person, to shew the world an example of perfect 
freedom; and ruminating on the mode to be adopted, 
I was led into a philosophic reverie on the conquest 
of passion, the necessity of forbearance. 'Necessity/ 



158 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 



cried I, ' can freedom exist, then, with necessity ? Can 
it exist with pride ? ' I had proceeded thus far when 
I was awakened by a ragged Hibernian, who held up 
a blue coat of shreds and patches, to two others of my 
quondam slaves, when the following dialogue ensued: 




* Blackey, I say ? ' cries Paddy, ' can't you, by the 
powr's of your stame engine, shift me this coat for a 
new one ? I trust, by the looks of ye, ye'r the very 
man I have been looking for since I left Kilamey.' 

'What you mean, Sir! I'm a merchant. I lain 
you better! can't you rid dat dere sign? ply to de 
office,' to which the lady indignantly added — 

' Aint it too gusting for a lady of quality to be salted 
so in street by Russians.' 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 



159 



" Pride,' said I, ' is the canker- worm which eats up 
half the virtues ; it is the mill-dew, the dry-rot of the 
heart ; it converts the noblest actions into selfishness ; it is 
a painted sepulchre which encloses all the vices. Pride 
and Freedom are distant as the poles.' This produced a 
dissertation on the blessings attendant upon humility, 
when I observed a group of old friends in the persons of 
Plato, Cagsar, and Doll, three of my freed blacks. On my 
approaching them, Plato, an itinerant vender of boots, 
was addressing Caesar and Doll as follows : 




'Lord a' marcy, why Caesar, is dis you; why, wheD 
you 'rive from New York ? ' 

" When Caesar, who had many times escaped a severe 
flogging for malversation in the field, by Plato taking the 



160 LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 

blame upon himself, replied — c You must be mistaking in 
de person, black man, — ' and Dolly, with all the affec- 
tation of a town lady of consequence, embracing the 
arm of her sooty lord, added, c What does de imperdent 
nigger mean, my love ? ' 

" Pride,' said I, ' is the devil, but ingratitude is the 
serpent's tooth, used to inflict torture upon an honest 
heart. Jupiter himself cannot annihilate an atom ; but, 
Oh ! Jupiter, enable me to enslave again that rascal 
Caesar ; consign him to the lowest pit of human misery ! 
Doleful were my thoughts at the poor devil's anguish, 
when the scraping of an old cracked fiddle, to Mars and 
Venus, two of my free'd slaves, gladdened my ear. 




Says Venus, ' my dear, is this what you call de Fan- 



LIFE IN PHILADELPHIA. 161 

dang'o ? " " Yes," replied Mars, " yes, my love, only 
improved by Monsieur and Madame Yestris." " Massa. r 
exclaimed the scraper of catgut, " stretch your leg in 
style down the pint of right foot." 

The coach was now ascending Muswell Hill. The 
thin gentleman paused, — the amiable one looked me 
in the face with an eye, which cheered my heart; it 
spoke volumes. "All this may be true," he observed. 
" and more, but it is not our province to sit in judg- 
" ment, nor our duty to prosecute a whole race for the 
" failings of a thousand ; nay, were ninety and nine to 
" misuse the precious gift of liberty, as instruments in 
" the hand of heaven, we should do the deed of mercy." 
Bacchus yawned at the length of the hill, and by his 
countenance evinced that pure enjoyment, like true 
liberty, could only be had within his bar on Comhill. 




AX UNCONNECTED TALE. 



162 



SALLY WATTS. 

The morn was fine in Greenwich Park, 
Which park is always green ; 

When Mr. Rider took a walk, 
To see and to he seen. 

A one-legged Pensioner he saw, 

Sit on a three-legged stool, 
And full of grief he seemed, as tho' 

His cup of grief was full. 

Now tallow candles Rider sold, 

A melting heart he had ; 
And wished to dip into the cause 

Of Pensy's state so sad. 

" 1 loved a lass, called Sally Watts," 
Said he, " and fair to pass ; 
In Wapping Wall her father dwelt ; 
She was a wapping lass. 




A GREENWICH PENSIONER. 



SALLY WATTS. lfitt 

u I thought our mutual flame so hot 
That nothing could us part ; 
Said she to me — l my only deer, 
1 I'm sure you've stole my hart.' 

" One day was I most rudely axd 
And pressed to serve the king ; 
My Sally pressed me in her arm?. 
Said I, — ' I'm taken in.' 

" We all was swept into the hold, 
Not fit to hold a broom ; 
Cried I, — 'I cannot stir a peg, 
Yet here I'm bound to roam.' 

" Our crews went cruising on the sea. 
And with the French fell in ; 
We soon fell out, you may suppose, 
I wondered who would win. 

" A cannon-ball soon fell'd my leg, 
I prostrate fell, and gory ; 
My footing gone, I lay upon 
The deck, bedecked "with glory. 
m2 



164 SALLY WATTS. 

" I wrote to tell poor Sally Watts 
What had befallen me ; 
For tho' a pensioner be I* 
No pen-shunner I be." 

Now Rider all attention was, 
While Jack his ear bespoke ; 

How for a leg of flesh and blood, 
He'd got a leg of oak. 

" I sallied out to Sally Watts, 
Who went off in a huff; 
My wooden leg she wou'dn't have, 
Said she, — ' one's not enough. 

" ' Tom Topsail, with his brace of legs, 
Shall my embraces share ; 
You may with Poll or Doll pair off, 
Since pared down from a pair. 

" ' There's Peggy Popkins, — she may like 
A lover with one leg ; 
Get spliced with her, and so you may 
Obtain a second peg.' 



SALLY WATTS. 

" Oh cruel Sal !" — poor Jack exclaimed, 
" My heart you've nearly broke ;" 
Says Mr. Rider, — " let your heart 
Be like your leg — of oak : 

" I'll make my will, and leave you straight 
A thumping legacy ; 
Leave Sal to Tom, and shew you have 
As good a leg as he." 



165 




A MAV OP WAR. 



166 



SOME ACCOUNT OF 

THE SIDE FAMILY. 

" Sublimi feriam sidera. vertice/'— Hor. 



The Side family are of very high antiquity. Our 
earliest progenitor was collaterally related to Adam, and 
had the honour to be father-in-law to that distinguished 
individual. At this day, so extended is our connection, 
that one or other of us is always at the prime minister's 
elbow; and the king himself, — God bless him! — never 
stirs without one of us under each arm. For we are 
upon record as most pertinacious hangers on, ever since 
the time of the Phoenician merchants, who colonized 
us from Tyre and Sidon. 

There are good and bad in all families — a mingled 
yarn, as Shakspeare has it. I suppose it was owing to 
our ancestress Eve's original slip, that in parlour pole- 
mics the fault is always laid to us ; it being regularly 
pronounced by both parties to be all on one side. Before 







CRIBBAGK— ONE FOB HIS NOB. 



THE SIDE FAMILY. 167 

the Conquest, we boasted of royal affinity in the person 
of Edmund Ironside, whose descendant, Nestor Ironside, 
appointed himself guardian to all the minors in England. 
One of this branch was attached to a certain General 
Buonaparte, whom he assisted in turning the world up- 
side down. His immediate posterity, as might have 
been expected from such a parentage, are a couple of 
notorious scoundrels, most paternally acquainted with 
whipping-posts and prisons — Common-Side and Debtors- 
Side — the first of whom is an incorrigible cribbage 
player, while the latter gets into every tradesman's books 
from Piccadilly to Pie-Corner. These slippery person- 
ages will not own kindred with Under-Side, who has 
gone wonderfully down in the world ; and in then turn 
they are disclaimed by Upper-Side, a snug old fellow, 
who would not give sixpence to save the twain of them 
from the gallows. 

In-Side and Out-Side are both men of letters; — the 
former is a universal correspondent, and the latter is 
distinguished by his particular address.. They have 
made so much money in the travelling line — In-Side 
by publishing his tours, and out-Side by driving the 
mail — that each has got into Parliament; where the 
main business has ever since been to turn in-Side out. 



168 THE SIDE FAMILY. 

They met there a brace of cousins, Right-Side, who was 
returned for the borough of Suppleton, and Wrong-Side, 
who represents the county-town of Oldways. The former, 
after voting against a certain question through the last 
twenty years, voted for it the other day, and retained his 
office ; the latter stuck to his opinions, and lost * * 
* * * * [Here the MS. is blotted 

so as to be quite illegible. — Printer's Devil.'] * * 
a pair of Londoners among us, respectable 
folks enough in their way : Bank-Side, who occupies a 
whole quay near Blackfriars; and Cheap-Side, who cuts 
calicoes somewhere about St. Paul's. The magnates 
of the family are not over fond of these gentry, though 
each of them has very lately been Lord Mayor, I assure 
you. We are, however, prodigiously proud of Broad- 
Side and Along-Side; two worthy Admirals, without 
whose sendees, we flatter ourselves, Nelson would have 
done but small service at Trafalgar. They were equally 
busy at Algiers with one Sir Edward, who was created 
Lord Exmouth ; and at Navarin with the other Sir 
Edward, who has not been created Lord Anything. The 
old lads are at present rusticating with their cousin Sea- 
Side ; who, by the bye, complains sadly of his retire- 
ment being disturbed every summer by loungers and 




A STOilM n BREAKERS A-HEAD !" 



THE SIDE FAMILY. 169 

ladies. It would be pleasanter, lie says, to be shut up 
at home with a body's wife, looking out for squalls. 
They are, however, still more annoyed by a pair of dull 
prosers, called Sober-Sides, whom they cannot persuade 
to relish grog or flip ; so they occupy themselves with 
preparing a new edition of their works, which may per- 
haps be published ere long under royal patronage. It 
is odd, however, that they should agree almost as ill with 
their honest kinsman Fire-Side, whose domestic qualities 
and warm feelings recommend him to every Briton ; being 
quite a family man, and never giving his visitors a cold 
reception. The sailors, to be sure, are out of their 
element in his company ; yet if an enemy were to give 
them the slip, and venture upon his territories, how he 
would fight pro arts et focis ! 

Our vanity is somewhat abated in Counsellor Either- 
Side, whose practice was double that of any other West' 
minster Blue Bag. He had an ancestor who was exe- 
cuted in Greece, under the statute of Neutrality, 2d 
Solon, Chap. 5, section 42. This unlucky gentleman's 
name was Neither-Side. 

A-Side was a celebrated actor, whose mode of de- 
livery gave occasion to the phrase — a playhouse whis- 
per. Alderman Left-Side was of a peculiarly hearty- 



170 THE SIDE FAMILY. 

constitution ; but Governor Right-Side (not the member) 
was notorious for a bad liver, — thanks to his East India 
residence. He died at Cheltenham, under the care of 
Mother Bed-Side ; a very experienced matron, who had 
attended the clinical lectures of Surgeon Heavy-Side. 
His rupees went to his nephews, Weak-Side and Blind- 
Side. Then there is honest old Rough-Side, who never 
told a lie or said a civil thing in his life : whereby you 
may safely infer him to be one of our poor relations : the 
opposite in all points of Bobby Smooth-Side, who never 
uttered a truth beyond the fact of a fine day, or contra- 
dicted a customer. Bob has sneaked himself into an Alder- 
man's gown, is a great man at public meetings, and tags 
M.P. to his name. Dark-Side and Bright-Side are his 
Avorship's humble imitators, and almost as illustrious at 
the small clubs ; where the first will persuade you that 
the empire is about to be blown up by gas and steam, 
and the second, that beer is going to be a penny a pot. 
These gentlemen are almost as eloquent, in their way, as 
the illustrious orator who used to travel about Westmore- 
land, crying " Ye men of Ambleside !" 

We have some illegitimate slips among us, who must 
in all candour be mentioned; Side-Curls, a journeyman 
hair-dresser at Macalpine's ; Sides-bone, a taylor's appren- 



THE SIDE FAMILY. 171 

tice who is always to be found in the Poultry ; Side-scene, 
a call-boy at the Cobourg ; Side-board, who is butler to 
a Bishop ; and Side-table, who is his Lordship's chaplain. 
Neither must Sides-man be forgotten, the deputy church- 
warden of St. Omnibus, who has grown fatter than the 
rector himself, upon vestry feeding. Then there is that 
puppy, Side-look, cocking his eternal eyeglass, and squint- 
ing like the Saracen's head : — Side-box and Side-saddle, 
too, a brace of dandies, who fancy the ladies cannot shew 
a nose in the Haymarket without them. As for Side- 
blow, Side-ways, Side-wind, and Side-long, honest men 
will do wisely to keep them at a civil distance. The 
last of these worthies, an insinuating rascal ! affects to 
pass for the son of our straight-forward friend, Along- 
side ; but if the old gentleman comes up with him, he'll 
rectify his crabs-ancles, I warrant you. 

I wish those people would learn to spell, who assert 
Regicide, Parricide, and Suicide to be our relations, or 
that supple scoundrel, Coincide. 

As to my own connexion with the Side family, I need 
tell neither my name nor quality ; for the reader must 
have long since been satisfied that I am 

Be-Side myself. 



172 



THE CONTRAST. 



A varied contrariety, 
Or contrary variety 
How oft we see, of fooleries 
Imported from the Tuilleries. 
Some Lord, sucli as our boroughs send us, 
Oh ! from such Lords the Lord defend us ! 
The mark of Cain stamped on his face, 
(The marks of cane his back would grace,) 
The antique antics which he carries 
Bespeak him — just arrived from Paris. 
Though like the monkey, who his tail 
Had lost, you'll find him with a tale 
Long as a sailor's " long yarn" spinning, 
And in the ball-room young hearts winning. 
He'll swear, that on his hands and knees, 
He scrambled o'er the Pyrenees, 




THE BALL. 



THE CONTRAST. 173 

Climbed Ponipey's pillar ; sat upon't 

And thrice swam o'er the Hellespont ; 

Peeped down below, all black and sooty, 

At famed Vesuvius — like old Booty. 

No sense, indeed, or stings of conscience, 

Fall to his lot ; but lots of nonsense. 

Then will he vapour (altho' fighting 

He owns he never took delight in) 

Of hair-breadth dangers, and hair triggers, 

And at a ball Lord Flashpan figures. 

But, for a moment, let us stop 

To criticise the humble hop ; 

Where, 'stead of her Port, Sal drinks Porter. 

And John with malt and hops must court her ; 

A dustman in his Sunday clothes, 

Nails in his heels as well as toes, 

Cries, " Dang it, Sal ! I think at ween us 

You beat the famous Med'cin Wenus ; 

Come, take a swig o' heavy wet, 

Then, down the middle, change, and set/' 

Tho' this is vulgar — that refined — 

Contrasted like the human mind ; 

If Cham-pagne sparkle at the one. 

At t'other flashes — real fun. 



174 




TO THE EDITOR. 

Deer Sur, 

As I here's you're a komical Feller, and lik our 
Good king, more fonder of Laugh-able than grave sub- 
jects, I begs to send you a Short Tail witch will Unfolde 
how It turned Up that I am Sik of sea Woyages — You 
mus now I liks my Familly to get clensed from the over 
pouring Hare of the Burrow, were I lives, so as Land is 
not So good as Sea Hares, they gose in the Generality, 
to gravesend or sum other of the Watery Places. And 
I assures you they re-turns quite Fresh beans arter the 
Salt water Bathin. 

Alltho by the helps of Saint Katterine's Ducks you 
can Land on the Water and on Shores, on borde the 
Stemurs, yet I do'sn't lik them smoaky hannimals, so we 
disembogued ourselvs on borde a Salin Pakkit and we 



A LETTER. 175 

went salin along lik Flise in a Creme Jugg, for we had 
the Currants with us, and my little Dick was in high 
sprits for he was to see a Peer at Gravesend — but he 
ehang'd his Notes wen we cum to the Banks of the Terns 
for he found the Peer was stoan — Well arter we'd pade 
our Fair and bade Fairwell to the bote, we went off 
in a Crack till we cum to a hankerin on a Green Spot 
to rest our werid Lims, for we'd Bean a Huntin of 
Froggs. We was just a Praisin the Rurality of a country 
lif, wen my darter Serefina Turns her Ise over on a 
Hadder on a Ham bush behind the sharp-set edge — 
We was all most Putrifide at Bean deceaved by this 
Whily hinsect, so we Tuk to our Heles, and left our 
stued Eles and sutch of our Et-setteras as wasn't Et, 
wen wat was our Supprize wen we turned Roundabouts 
to see sum Wagabones make fre with our Vitals, and 
bounce out from Behind thare Retrenchment, just as 
My darter said, lik the Sodgers — but I never new 
there was Any sutch thing amongst them— -Well the 
los of our Rum and Brandy put Us out of Spirits — it 
was a wery Rum los indede, and them Fellers ort to 
be Branded, so we settled to get a fresh stok of vitals, 
but just as we Turns a Hangle, we sese a Drove of bul- 
licks a Makin a Way for us : and my darters Feres sends 
her a scampin Right of to the Left — she maks her Stays 



176 A LETTER. 

wery Short with us, and maks Of for a Farmouse she 
sese in a Behind-part at the Bottom of the field, but 
as she Reproaches the Gait, a Grate Firey Dog jumps 
out of his Kernel and seses her in her Caf were as she 
ses the Tend'runs is, but I dont' Prove her havin Tend'runs 
at all — And then sum Vags of farmers Ducks her (I 
Thinks it was Fowl play), for to see if She was Hidera- 
foberous, in a Pond — This sets her a dis-pond-in and 
when she did Find us she happend to be a Combin her 
Hare, and Dick stood a Ghast lookin lik a 




CALF. 

for he Thort it was a Mermade. 

Well, deer Sur — T thort we had a Rite to suffer no 



A LETTER. 177 

more Rongs in our way home, so to Varify the Sene I tuk 
a shay — we stow'd ourselvs in and Dick road in the 
Dickey, but wen we cum to a Blak Heeth, our Hors 
(a stupit Hass) tuk a Shy at a mild Stoan and Set off — we 
Set on as well as we cud, but one of the Foure wheels tuk 
tire in the Haxle Trees and we was Throne and Deposed 
in the Mud. 

I found they as is derer to Me than Lif all most 
snuffocated and so unlik Kristian Beans that I Repents 
Sins given up to Diktats of pleasur witch is all Wanity 
and Wasting of Spirits. 

Be leave me Deer Sur Yours til Deth. 

Robert Dust. 

P.S. My Darter ses I Lave made to fre use of Kappital Let- 
ters in this Epistol, but I peal to you sur if It isn't a Kappital 
letter thruout. 




J 78 



THE 

ROYAL EXCHANGE. 



Tired of common-metre, 
(As of a pair of pumps that cramp the toes, 
Or spectacles too tight upon the nose, 

Both the face and feet are ; ) 
1 hasten to take up a varied measure, 
Fit my extremities to their own pleasure, 
And by th' Exchange — get wider range. 

Charles the 10th of France 
With his mad pranks no longer king of France is ; 
The friend to ordnance and to ordinances, 

Plays a game of chance : 
A game, both to himself and subjects foul, 
So into purgatory sends his soul ; 

Like kitchen range — fiery exchange ! 



THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 179 

Charles, firebrand of Paris, 
With the fall'n Prince of darkness, his prime minister, 
(That sly fox, like old Guy Faux, false and sinister,) 

A dark lantern carries ; 
Brimstone and steel, and tinder-box and matches : 
But freedom's spirit off the pair dispatches, 
And makes a strange — Pcoyal Exchange. 

To the 10th Huzzars, 
King George of gorgeous niem'ry gave a fillip ; 
So the tenth Charles to his troops gave a Phillippe, 

'Midst their proud huzzas ! 
The costume of the English troops was splendid, 
But in a glorious revolution ended ; 

So kings derange— and forms exchange. 

'Tis now uniform 
With sovereigns, in these eventful times, 
Variable as their varied climes, 

To provoke the storm ; 
And if the night has closed on Charles for ever, 
Another Dey is gone, to come back never ; 
Princes so strange — do chop and change ! 
n 2 



180 THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 

But enough of kings. 
The Times — the Thames — how every thing has changed! 
(The Tide itself at London Bridge deranged ; 

Each the changes rings : 
That bridge which has upon its timbers stood 
The brunt of ages, ages too of flood ; 
Colossal stride — that curbs the tide, 

Soon thy ancient brow 
Will change, now stretch' d across from shore to shore; 
And thy " arch ways" will shortly be no more : 

Oh, sad tale of woe 
Take up thy bed and walk, we say in vain ; 
When thou art gone, thy bed will still remain, 
And, at low water — mourn thy departure. 

Life is as full of loss, 
As is an egg of meat ; walk London round, 
Chances and changes ev'ry where abound, 

From Paul's to Charing Cross ; 
The Ball and Cross, of late so elevated, 
To Regent's Park* the Bali has transmigrated ; 
The Cross itself — laid on the shelf. 

* Now stationed at the Colosseum. 




DRAWING FROM THE LIFE. 



THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 181 

Following the crosses — 
A-cross the way hath old Fleet market fled, 
Towards the Colosseum ; which its head 

Now so proudly tosses, 

Beneath the horns of Hornor's sad dilemma — 

Not even Rothschild's giant self could stem a 

Course of Exchange — of such wide range. 

No mean work of art 
Is there — the offspring of a mastermind; 
Drawn from the life — all London is combined ! 

That tremendous wart ! 
Which freely bleeds like wounds of hornithology, 
Helping to fill the Gardens of Zoology ; 
Noblest of piles — in Britain's Isles. 

Another Cross pursues, 
Like Paul's, the general road of its departure ; 
The Golden Cross at Charing Cross the quarter 

Where the royal mews 
Did strangers once amuse ; the upper story 
A noble National Repository ; 

Sheiv, not of animal — but arts mechanical. 



182 THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 

To supply the loss, 
By force of odd contingency, has strand-ed 
From Ex'ter Change, and lately Pell Mell landed 

There, a living Cross, 
With grand repository natural, 
Not of the tamer breed of Tattersall, 
But beasts of prey — like Algiers' Dey. 

O 'Change of Exeter ! 
Where I, in youth, did thy dear walks parade, 
Dearer to me than Burlington Arcade \ 

Thou'st made thine exit-here : 
Childhood, like manhood, thronged thy stalls below 
Then to thine upper stalls did gladly go, 
To gaze and stare — at wolf and bear. 

Unchanged thy museum, 
Gazette of Literature '. in verse and prose — 
By fiiends unwarp'd — immoveable to foes, 

(Not so the Lyceum) 
Staunch pillars are the columns of thy journal, 
And sound unto the very core thy kernel, 
The colonel sure — of learning's corps. 




C-EO LOGICAL RESEARCHES. 



THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 183 

Luminous Lit. Gaz. 
Bright as the gas-lights of these modern days, 
Thy Scripps delights the nation with essays, 

Who the rare wit has 
All subjects to dissect, quite liter-ary, 
While the two Comics with their lighter airy 
Scraps, do essay — to please the gay. 

Thus, across the city 
To the West-end, have I perambulated ; 
And crosses, chances, changes, have narrated, 

But ere I close my ditty, 
(While with a wide colossal stride I stand, 
Compassing each extremity of the Strand,) 
Can I estrange — thee P royal exchange! 

Centre of the Mundus 
Emblem of Geological researches — 
Over thy top a gilt Grass-hopper perches, 

Thou nulli secundus ! 
Within thy gates thro' ev'ry clime we stalk, 
From North to South, " Levant" and " Baltic walk," 
Where meet each nation — in consultation. 



184 THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 

Thy rare pavement too 
Of Turkey stone ! Be not surprised at finding 
Our merchants are become expert at — grinding ; 

Christian, Turk, and Jew, 
Grow daily sharper here ; for otherwise 
It could not be. Tho' Sol the pavement dries, 

Each stone thou tread' st on — thou'lt find a whetstone! 

When all London fell 
By Fire and Plague's fell pestilential breath, 
Did' st not thou bravely brave that tyrant death, 

And each nat'ral ill 
Flesh in this meat-ropolis is heir to ? 
Near unto it's Poultry , could'st thou care to 
Starve on Corn-hill — 'mid'st plenty still ? 

Thy brother citizens, 
From earliest time made providence their care, 
Kept a keen eye upon their Bills — of fare ; 

Thus their witty sons, 
Keep in their streets an eye (like one Jack Horner 
To Plum) from Pudding Lane unto Pie Corner : 
In Cheapside fed — on "Milk" and " Bread" 




"wake! dearest, wake!' 



THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 185 

From that sweeping Fire, 
In sixteenth century and sixty-six, 
•Which scarcely left or feather, stone, or sticks, 

In its dread raging ire, 
Thy pinions from the flames like Phoenix rose ; 
Scarce singed, thy royal tips or royal toes : 

Razed to the ground — raised up thou'rt found ! 

With thy sweeping wing, 
When near to thy gates the conflagration got, 
Vociferating loud, " 'tis 'nation hot," 

Th' ashes didst thou fling, 
Like Vesuvius, far into the distance, 
Resolved to make a furious resistance 
To thy hot fry — fierce as thy cry ? 

Thou hast kept thy stand ; 
While on the right, the Bank has changed — her notes. 
The Posts upon the left, their scarlet coats, 

(Generals in command) ; 
The Bank itself unmoved, of all the city firms 
The firmest ; while the Posts, once creeping worms, 
Have ta'en to flight — both day and night. 



186 THE ROYAL EXCHANGE. 

E'en their very mansion, 
Once a Lord Mayor's, 'tis said, in reign of John, 
Magic like, majestically has flown, 
With wide expansion ; 
From her old hiding place emerging 
West she flew, but her eyes northward verging 
Were met by Smirke's — from board of works. 

In grand schemes no novice, 
On the broad wings of government he flew, 
And from his own pinions swiftly drew 

A new plan of office, 
For Posts, both general, twopenny, and foreign ; 
A spacious place for "quick and dead" to stir in, 
And made his stand — in Place le Grand, 

Thus, in all but thee, 
How Majesty has changed from east to west, 
Thyself, though mentioned last, art not the least 

Type of royalty ; 
Thy royal name or nature has not faltered, 
Although the face of every thing is altered 
Within thy range — for thou'rt Ex change ! 




A FAIR DAY. 



187 



BARTHOLOMEW FAIR. 



Before entering on so prolific a subject, and especially 
on so wide & field, 1 was advised to call first at St. Bar- 
tholomew's, where I should find subjects more than I 
could dissect and lay open to my readers ; but although 
informed I should be hospitably received, I considered 
that my " walk " did not lie in the above Hospital, since 
the subjects there partook rather too much of the grave 
for my purpose ; so I determined not to take that round, 
but keep to my own family circle, preferring their homely 
fare to that in Smithfield, and amuse them with some 
account of what is usually called Bartlemy Fair, if I 
may use its more corrupt name, 

Bartlemy Tair, then, is a general feast; yet sober folks 
consider that it approaches too fast. The fair days, nine 
out of ten, belie themselves ; for the unlucky visitors too 
often find St. Swithin " dropping in " upon St. Bar- 
tholomew. At this fair, trick and deception make then 



188 BARTHOLOMEW FAIR. 

stand, and though lies are told by the bushel, yet they 
tell well, and the lying culprits stand the better in public 
opinion. The Holiday folks even ascend platforms with 
hangings thereon, and too often end their day with a 
drop too much. They walk under Booths without fear 
of gins and traps ; and men and women resume the 
rattles of then childhood. This noted Festival falls on 
a Holy (or Saint's)-day, and therefore is a general holi- 
day for sinners. In the shape of a flood it is productive 
of baneful effects, for all people flow towards it in one 
tide. The best and the worst watches go equally fast, 
especially if they have not guards ; all watchmen being 
sent " over the water to Charlie." Free livers are as- 
tounded by the rising of the lights, and the illiterati, as- 
tonished at the illuminations, go away much enlightened. 
To conclude, I should observe, that hundreds of asses 
of all sexes, out of Essex, Middlesex, and Sussex, come 
far and near, on foot and on horseback, to see the vota- 
ries of the Saint eat fire and vomit ribands. This may 
serve to illustrate a well-known sign of the times, as 
being u good entertainment for man and horse," but, 
for myself, reversing the order of things, I pronounce 
the Fair (not, I hope, ungallantly) a general nuisance, 
and n this new sense of the word, I indite it. 



189 



THE 



TRIAL OF SIR JOHN FALSTAFF, 



(before chief justice johntson,) 



FOR CLIPPING THE KING'S ENGLISH. 



The Court was met, and mighty Sam Chief Justice there was chosen, 

And a Jury was empanelled, making up the even dozen ; 

Reviewers all, or Editors of Journals periodical 5 — 

When from the dock the Doctor did Jack FalstafFs jolly body call. 

Oh yes, oh yes, the Crier cried, whereas you were committed, 

Primo Henrici Quinti, to the Fleet for a lean witted 

Incorrigible hasher up of jokes which never fail you j 

And since you've in Old Bailey lain, with not a friend to bail you 

The law at length lays with eclat her crooked claw your sconce on; 

And to-day you will be tried before the Lord Chief Justice Johnson. 

C. J. Silence in Court ! the trial must proceed with due decorum. 

Crier. Stand up, Sir John ! 

Sir J. Be still, thou knave, I'm fmishing my jorum ; 

I'm a Justice of the Peace myself— 

C. J. I think thou art a quorum. 

Gentlemen of the Jury, we must use deliberation ; 
This is no single case, you see, but of a Corporation. 



190 SIR JOHN FALSTAFF's TRIAL. 

Read the indictment, clerk ; but you had better read it short : — I 
Conceive the trial may be long. 

Clerk {reads.) Primo Gulielmi Quarti, 

The Jurors for our Lord the King present this monstrous criminal, 
" John Falstaff," who, whate'er he says, still mixes fun and whim in all ; 
With quip and crank, and clench and pun, and quibble and conundrum, 
Knocks pronouns, nouns, and verbs about, and trips their legs from under 
Runs interjections out of breath, puts adverbs in a flurry, ['em; 

Parts participles all apart, conjunctions hurry skurry, 
To the prejudice of Dilworth, Dyke, Home Tooke, and Lindley Murray : 
While on the words so out of joint affixing folly's signet, he 
Hath spoiled the English of the King, and wronged his crown and dignity. 
How say you, culprit, guilty or not guilty ? 

Sir J. Stay, thou varlet ; 

I've a word or two to say to that old gentleman in scarlet. 
Master Doctor, you're a partial judge, I'll prove by your biography, 
And Bozzy is my witness, you're so " lost in lexicography ; " 
You hate a quibble worse than does a quaker, and you'd run 
With forty times less speed from a pistol than a pun. 
I object to you in toto. 

C. J. We must kick out that objection. 

Sir J. A pun ! a pun ! What punishment can come by your direction, 
Who commit the very acts for which the law provides correction ? 

C. J. Sir John, Sir John, obtemperate, and give your heed auricular ; 
Then, as you please, deny or own the charge in each particular. 
What counsel have you ? 

Sir J. Mr. Hood.— 

C. J. Why, Sir, I am but ill able 

To a contest with that gentleman in letter, word, or syllable. 
" 'Tis not the hood that makes the friar "—but here the proverb should 
Turn retrograde, and say — " 'Twas not the friar made the hood." — 

Crier. A letter for Sir John, my lord ! 

Sir J. {opens and reads.) —'Tis very hard, ecod it is !— 

Here's Mr. Hood is taken up with his own Whims and Oddities : — 
Troth, though no friar was his sire, yet no one-can deny, 



SIR JOHN FALSTAFF'S TRIAL. 191 

That when he Tilted against Chance, the Chance of Tilt to try, 
Most surely he a fryer must be, with such odd fish to fry. — 

C. J. Gentlemen of the Jury, 'twere a monstrous incongruity, 
To occupy the court with such a needless superfluity 
Of argument or evidence, when the prisoner's own oration 
Has decisively pronounced his spontaneous condemnation ; 
By the statute against clipping, which may well apply the lash 
To defilers of our language as to filers of our cash. — 
And so frequent the oc- currency 

Sir J. A pun, I do protest !— 

C. J. Sir, no one but the Judges are in court allowed to jest. — 

Sir J. That is — to jest aloud — but it shews too mu ch rigidity, 
To quarrel with the whisper of a quibble or a quiddity. — 

C. J. Gentlemen, you see with what astonishing rapidity 
He multiplies the proofs beyond a chance of contradiction. — 
Can you vacillate much longer on a verdict of conviction ? 
All the Jury. We all pronounce hirn guilty of snipping and of 
The English of our Lord the King : — [clipping 

C. J. And that deserves a whipping. — 

Hold up your hand, Sir John, and say if you have aught to say, 
Why justice in a case like this should not hold on her way. — 

Sir J. I'll tell you why : — 'tis you, not I, who a strange language 
And mar our honest native phrase with Latin and with Greek 5 [speak, 
Shewing upon the simplest things a tongue sesquipedalian, 
(Which means a tongue of six feet long) and older than Deucalion — 
Come, Doctor, lend me twenty pounds, and I'll hold you two to one, 
That in all your works you do not shew the shadow of a pun ; 
While every time I ope my mouth, I shew my real merit as 
A real Saxon son of sack, to prove in vi?io Veritas. 
Like lively Hood my livelihood I like to get by talking-; 
And if read like Red Riding Hood, I'll ride instead of walking. — 

C. J. Upon my verity, Sir John, you make me use severity, 
For, old or young, was never tongue that went with such celerity ; 
'Twere a famous bore, at the Boar's Head, to listen to your fine tales ; 
Gaoler, be quick, and bring me here the last new cat o' nine tails. 



192 sir john falstaff's trial. 

Gaoler. Cato the censor stole my cat. 

Foreman. Make haste, and bring a newer. 

C. J. Oh, Cato steal a cat o' nine ! 'Twas just like a reviewer. 
Think not for that to 'scape the cat, by such an idle hum, 
Your back, old Jack, shall surely taste the flagelliferum. 
Go, gaoler, to the Muses nine, and bring them without fail, 
But see it done, that every one does with her bring her tail. 

Sir J. The Muses tale-bearers ! will they be angry at my fun, 
Or let their tails be used for tawse, and dipped in Helicon ? 

C. J. Be silent, prisoner, or 1 must enforce your taciturnity, 
You'd out-talk women nine times nine, though talking to eternity. 
Come, ladies, pass us from Parnassus your lash upon this stale piece, 
And make the back of old Sir Jack taste smartly of your 




TAIL PIECE. 



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